Telling Jokes to God
by Bella7
Summary: Eric had always heard that if you want to make God laugh, you should tell Him your plans. The way he figured, God had to be howling by now... will eventually be E/C. R/R?
1. Prologue

A/N: This is _not _part of my CSI50 for Calleigh Duquesne. It is, however, an idea that wormed its way into my head and refused to be ignored. Plus, I was blocked for Calleigh fic ideas and my zen-master roommate instructed me to start writing this story and allow myself to be free from the confines of my own imagination. Enjoy a little something different.

**Prologue**

Ryan had the worst luck in the world. This thought had occurred to him several times before: when his girlfriend had dumped him on prom night, when his face had been plastered all over the news and he'd been labeled a leak to the media, when his boss had caught him gambling on the job and fired him, and—oh, yes—when he'd been shot in the eye with a nail gun.

This, however, trumped all of those things.

He shouldn't have said anything. He should have kept his head buried in his files and ignored her as she stood at the reception desk and demanded to see his co-worker. Perhaps if he had this whole thing…well, this whole thing would've happened anyway. But at least he wouldn't have been a part of it.

But he hadn't ignored her. Mainly because he'd approached the reception desk from the hallway behind and had caught a glimpse of her face. And she was gorgeous. Drop-dead, plucked from the magazines, too good to be true gorgeous.

"I'm looking for Eric Delko," she stated simply to the receptionist. "I was told he works here."

Ryan's heart sank. She was drop-dead gorgeous and she was looking for Delko. Of course she was looking for Delko—they were always looking for Delko. Still, it was Lent, and although he was technically Jewish, it seemed it was the done thing to try to be a better person during Lent. "Eric Delko?" he'd asked, stopping just short of the desk.

She'd raised her lovely eyes—they turned out to be a warm honey color he found altogether very pleasing—to him and smiled. "Yes, can you help me?"

"Yeah, sure," he's shrugged and even offered a smile back. "Have a seat, I'll go get him for you." It wasn't until he'd rounded the desk that his smile faded. She turned toward the lobby of couches and his eyes landed on her enormous stomach. "Whoa," he exclaimed before he could stop himself.

She raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Yeah, tell me about it," she muttered before waddling into the lobby and easing herself into an uncomfortable chair. "Could you tell him it's kind of urgent?" she called as he headed down toward the labs.

"Oh my God," Ryan muttered to himself.

His stomach twisted further into a knot when he realized that Eric wasn't alone in the trace lab. He was with Calleigh. They were standing close together and he seemed to be playing with a piece of her hair while she stood over a microscope.

"Eric," she laughed and gave him a playful shove. "I'm working."

"Hey, did I tell you I had a really great time last night?" he asked, moving closer.

She smiled to herself. "You might have mentioned it..."

"I was thinking maybe we could—" Eric stopped when he realized that Calleigh's eyes had moved from him to the doorway.

Ryan cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Uh, hey guys."

"What's up, Wolfe?" Eric asked, noticeably disappointed when Calleigh moved to the other side of the table.

"Sorry to uh…well, it's kind of urgent," Ryan scratched at the back of his neck and looked to the floor.

"What is it?" Calleigh asked, shutting off the microscope. "Did you get a hit off of CODIS?"

"What?" He had forgotten why she had sent him to DNA. Damnit. "No, I uh…I didn't make it there yet."

"Ryan," she rolled her eyes, "what have you been doing?"

"There's someone here to see you, Delko."

Eric perked up. "Who is it?"

"Uh, she didn't give me her name but she's uh…she's y'know, she's your type."

He raised an eyebrow. "My type, huh?"

"You know…Latina, long dark hair, big lips, _really _pretty...hugely pregnant."

Calleigh dropped the spare slide she'd been toying with. Eric's eyes widened. "She's what?"

"Enormous. And she said it's urgent that you go talk to her." Ryan read the panic on his friend's face. "And I already told her you were here…so you can't run out the door."

Eric let out a heavy sigh. "This is great."

"I mean, her being pregnant might have nothing to do with you…with why she's here," Ryan back-peddled nervously. "She might just actually need your help."

This did something for him. He stood up straight and gave a nod. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'm just going to go…" he ran a hand over his scruffy chin. "I'll just go see what's up."

Calleigh offered a tight smile, any sign of their flirtatious banter completely gone. "Good luck."

Ryan waited until Eric was down the hall before he let out the breath he'd been holding. "I'm sorry, Cal, if I was interrupting anything."

She produced another impassive smile. "You weren't."

"Are you sure? I thought there was something going on."

With a gaze in the direction of the lobby, Calleigh sighed. "Not anymore."

"She really could just need his help," he said softly, wishing that—among everything else—Calleigh hadn't been there when he'd delivered that news. "She could be happily married and on baby number five…or something."

x0x0x

But she hadn't needed his help—at least, not in the way Ryan was suggesting. She'd needed to tell him that her name was Rosha Ortiz—a name he'd vaguely remembered—and that she was eight and a half months pregnant with his kid.

* * *

A/N: Hope you'll going to give it a chance, I'm trying not to be cliché. Your thoughts please?


	2. Chapter One

A/N: Thank you for all the support already! Hope you like what I'm stirring up for you.

**Chapter One**

Eric signaled for the bartender to pour him another shot of tequila. "You sure, man?" the young man looked questionable. "This stuff'll kill ya."

He shrugged. "So will shots to the head. But I survived that, I'm sure I can handle a fourth shot of tequila."

"All right," the bartender filled the double shot, not wanting to mention it was actually his eighth. "But maybe you should switch it up after this."

"Yeah," Eric nodded. "You're probably right."

He was thankful when he was left alone.

It was time to brood.

He'd come here intending to think. But his thinking got very crazy after a few moments and he'd started drinking. That's when the brooding had begun.

Rosha had been surprisingly cool about the whole debacle. "Look," she'd said, moving her dark curls out of her face, "I'm not asking anything of you. It's completely your choice what you want to do. I just didn't think it would be fair—if the baby is yours—to have it and not tell you about it."

He'd appreciated that, on some level. "And you're sure it's mine?" he heard himself asking, trying to slow his heart rate.

She'd tilted her head and thoughtfully scratched her nose. "Ninety…six percent sure." His stomach plummeted to his knees again. "But, hey," she patted his knee supportively. "That's why they have paternity tests, right?"

"Right." Paternity tests! What genius thought those up? In his panic, he'd forgotten all about paternity tests! "So why don't we just do one of those…hell, we could probably do it here in the lab."

Her mouth folded into a frown. "We can't…until after the baby is born."

Oh. He'd known that. "All right…so what do we do?"

Rosha had looked down and absently placed her hands on her belly. "Well, I'm not due until the end of April—"

"Which is two weeks from now," Eric had interjected, feeling that panic rising in his throat again. This time it was mixed with a little bile.

"Right. Sorry about the short notice."

That was the understatement of the century.

"Well," he was at a loss, "do you…I don't know…do you need anything? A place to stay?"

She'd smiled and he suddenly remembered why he'd been attracted to her in the first place. Ryan had been right—she was absolutely beautiful. "No," her hair fell in her face again. "I'm staying with a friend until I get everything worked out. But it's sweet of you to offer."

If he recalled correctly, it was that same sweet offer that had gotten them in this predicament in the first place.

"Well, here," he produced his card. "This is always on so just…I don't know…call me if you need anything. Okay?"

She smiled again and pulled out a card of her own. "Likewise, I guess. That's my cell, if you just want to talk…or something."

"Yeah," he looked around nervously. "I don't really know how this works."

"Join the club." Rosha had started struggling to her feet then; Eric took hold of her hands and pulled her up gently. "One step at a time, I guess."

He'd let go of her hands with a smile—his first real smile since being reintroduced. "Yeah, I guess so."

But now, drinking straight tequila alone in a bar a few blocks from his house, he didn't feel much like smiling.

How could this have happened? He was thirty-one years old and while technically a whole decade older than his father had been when his oldest sister had been born, Eric felt nowhere near ready to have children. He'd always thought of kids as something that would inevitably happen in the future, _after _he'd settled down. Truth be told, he hadn't even seriously started thinking about kids until he'd met Calleigh.

Calleigh.

She'd gone home by the time he returned to the locker room. No goodbye, no note stuck to the inside of his locker, just gone. She probably wasn't speaking to him. He didn't blame her—he wouldn't be speaking to him if he had a choice in the matter. Still, he couldn't help but think that this was a little bit her fault.

Actually, this was almost all her fault.

Well, Jake's fault. Eric preferred to blame things on Jake whenever he could. If Jake hadn't swooped in and stolen Calleigh's affections away with his flippy hair and his undercover badass rep and all their ancient history together…Calleigh would have been with him sooner. And if Calleigh had been with him and not Jake, he wouldn't have been depressed and lonely. And if he hadn't been depressed and lonely, he wouldn't have gone out to the club and met Rosha. And if he hadn't met Rosha, there was no way she could be pregnant with his baby right now.

Eric drained his glass and set it down harshly on the bar. "Well that didn't help," he muttered to himself, not sure if he was talking about the booze or about the chain of blame he'd just set up in his mind.

"Talking to yourself is never a good sign," the sweet southern accent of said Calleigh Duquesne interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah, well…" he shrugged and stared into the bottom of his empty glass. He wasn't going to like what she'd come here to say. He knew it.

"Can I sit?" she asked, motioning to the empty bar stool on either side of him.

"Free country," Eric shrugged again as she dropped her purse on the bar and ordered a Bloody Mary.

"So," a sheet of blonde hair fell over her shoulder as she turned her head to face him, "you've had quite a day."

"You could say that again," he ran his hands over his face, already regretting that tequila. He watched as she drummed her nails on the bar and bit her lip. "Look, Calleigh, I know you're mad at me," he began. "I get it, I'd be mad at me too."

"It's not that I'm _mad _at you, Eric," she shook her head. "It's just that…well, actually," her brow furrowed, "y'know what? I _am _mad at you."

"I knew it."

"But this is why: I would have expected this a few years ago when you were all crazy and trying to…kill your pain or whatever you were doing with all of those women," her accent was becoming more pronounced as she rambled. "But did you or did you not look me in the eyes and tell me that stuff was behind you—that you weren't _that _guy anymore?"

"Calleigh, it's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" she asked, ignoring the drink that was just set down for her. "Explain it to me."

"It was just…" he shrugged, "it was just one time. It didn't trigger anything, I didn't fall back on old habits. It was one time and it was a mistake. Calleigh, I haven't even been out with anyone since…until…until you, I guess." He sighed. "I don't know if that means anything, but it's the truth."

That took the wind out of Calleigh's sails a bit. She sat back and stared at her hands uselessly for a few moments. "It does," she said softly.

"So where do we go from here?"

Calleigh took a long drink of her Bloody Mary and grimaced. "Well, it looks like you're going to be a father."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that," he said truthfully with a shake of his head.

"I don't think anyone ever really is."

"Cal, I don't want to lose you over this."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "You've got bigger things to worry about than me right now, okay? You need to focus on getting through the next couple of weeks."

"But where does that leave you and me?"

Calleigh stood and hitched her purse up onto her shoulder, she tossed a ten dollar bill on the bar and rested a hand on his arm. "It leaves us where we always end up, Eric. You don't need…whatever we are right now," she bent and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You need a friend."

As he watched her walk away, his heart sinking slowly into oblivion, Eric couldn't disagree more. Right now, all he needed was another drink.

x0x0x

It had taken a few long hours of contemplation, but Eric had decided not to tell his parents about Rosha and the baby until he was sure of what he was doing. If the tests came back and the kid wasn't his, it would be a moot point and all could return to normal. And even if the tests came back positive, he still wasn't sure what he'd be doing and there was no point in involving his parents until after he'd talked to Rosha. He knew their reactions anyway. His mother would start crying and probably praying, depending on what the situation called for; his father would yell for awhile—mostly in Russian—and then grow stony and removed.

Not something he felt like dealing with.

Although he hadn't officially said anything to anyone except Ryan and Calleigh, everyone at CSI knew. No one was saying anything to him directly (except for Alexx, who had snuck a "Thinking of You" card into his locker—though she'd claimed it was nothing but a nondescript friendly gesture) but each time he reached into his pocket to retrieve his cell phone, the entire lab seemed to hold its breath.

It was a week sooner than he'd expected when the call finally did come in. He'd been packing up his stuff and getting ready to head home.

"Hey, Eric," Rosha had begun conversationally.

"Rosha," he ran his free hand over his hair. Calleigh looked up from digging through her purse. "Hey, what's up?"  
"Um, nothing really. How about you?"

"Just getting ready to go home." He detected a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Are you sure everything is okay?"

"Well, uh…"

"Rosha, what is it?"

"I'm kind of in labor."

Eric almost dropped the phone. "You're what?"

"Well, I started having contractions around noon."

"Noon?" He looked at his watch. "Rosha, it's almost seven—when were you planning on telling me?"

"Stop yelling at me!" she exclaimed. "It's been a stressful day."

Eric took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Where are you now?"

"I'm at the hospital, they've been trying to get my water to break by itself but it doesn't seem to be working."

"Okay, Rosha, I don't know what that means."

"They said I might need a C-section and I, I just…" she took a deep breath. "I don't know…I thought you might want to be here."

"Dade Memorial?"

"Yeah. I'm on the second floor."

"I'm on my way." Eric hung up his phone and grabbed his bag from the locker.

"She okay?" Calleigh asked quietly, resuming her purse digging.

"She's in labor," he slung the bag over his shoulder. "She said something about a C-section…I don't know," he sighed. "She sounded worried."

Calleigh nodded. "Well, C-sections are a lot safer than they used to be," she gave another tight smile. "Just keep that in mind."

"Yeah," he glanced at his watch again. "I…uh…I better get down there."

"Yeah," she patted his arm as he moved past her to the door. "Hey, Eric."

"What's up?"

"Call as soon as you know anything, okay?" She smiled again and tucked her hair behind her ears. "You know…boy, girl, length, weight—all that."

A small smile found its way to his lips. "I can do that."

0x0x0

Traffic in Miami was working against him on the way to hospital and Rosha was already in surgery by the time he got there. He was shown to the waiting room on the maternity ward where he took a seat and settled in for what would be a long night.

Eric had been there for a little over an hour before the doors to the waiting room slid open. He glanced up from his magazine, expecting to see a nurse or an orderly or even another anxious family member. Instead, his eyes landed on the inquisitive stare of Horatio Caine.

"H," he stood and stretched his legs. "What are you doing here?"

"Calleigh told me what was going on," Horatio tilted his head. "How you doing?"

Eric let out a loaded breath. "I don't know. They took her back for a C-section about an hour ago, I haven't gotten any updates yet."

"Let's have a seat," Horatio motioned to one of the more comfortable looking couches. "I'm sorry, Eric, I had no idea any of this was going on."

"No, H, it's not like that. She just showed up a few days ago and sprung this on me." He shook his head and dropped his gaze to his shoes. "I don't really even know her."

"But she's sure you're her baby's father?"

"Well, more or less. They had to wait until she gave birth to do a paternity test."

"Are you prepared for those results?"

Eric let a mirthless laugh escape him. "No." He ran a hand over his hair again. "H, I'm not cut out for this. I mean, look at my job. I got shot in the head last year—on a _county_ salary. I've got nothing to offer a kid."

"Eric, we both know that's not true."

"I just always figured when this point in my life came, I'd be ready for it," he sighed deeply and shook his head. "Rosha, y'know, she said I shouldn't feel responsible. That I could walk away, even if the kid turns out to be mine but…I don't know. That just doesn't seem right either."

Horatio pondered this for a few long moments. "Eric, I can't make that decision for you. But I want you to know that whatever choice you make," he turned his head and locked eyes with his co-worker, "you can't go back."

"Yeah," Eric nodded. "All or nothing."

His boss smiled. "That's right. I also came here to tell you that being a father is one of the greatest gifts you can ever receive." He paused and patted the younger man on the shoulder. "Even when it comes as a surprise."

The doors opened again and this time a petite Asian woman in green scrubs walked in. She smiled at the pair. "Mr. Delko?"

Eric looked up. "Yeah, that's me. Is everything okay?"

"The doctor sent me out to tell you that Ms. Ortiz is out of surgery and she and the baby are both doing very well."

He felt himself smiling. "That's good. Can I…uh…can I see her?"

"She's resting right now, the anesthetic sometimes takes awhile to wear off." She paused and smiled again. "I can take you to see your son, though, if you like."

Despite everything, Eric felt his stomach flip. His breath caught in his throat. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Horatio's hand on his shoulder anchored him back down. "Would you like me to make a few calls for you?"

Eric turned back to him. "No, it's okay. I'll call her later."

H nodded with another smile. "Looks like you've got somebody to meet."

"Wait," he called to the nurse who'd already started down the hallway. "H, do you think it's a good idea? I mean, if it turns out he's not mine…"

"Why don't you cross that bridge when you come to it?" Horatio suggested. "Go welcome that child into the world."

The baby he was being taken to see was not behind the glass of a large nursery window. He was, instead, in a small plastic incubator, wrapped in a light blue blanket. His skin was lighter than Eric had expected, his hair darker and already looking quite curly. Eric couldn't tell what color his eyes were, but he'd put money on them being brown.

"He's one of the most beautiful babies I've seen in a long time," the nurse was saying as she led him back toward the incubator. "Eight pounds, three ounces, twenty-one inches long. He's healthy and just about average size."

"I don't know what Rosha told you," Eric began, suddenly wishing he didn't have to explain this situation. "But we're not entirely sure I'm the father. There's supposed to be some kind of…"

"Absolutely," the nurse didn't bat an eye. "Ms. Ortiz already explained the whole thing. I can take your blood now, if you'd like, to get things started."

"Oh, sure, yeah, I guess that's a good idea."

"We should have the results back in a few days." She caught Eric's eyes straying to the incubator again. "Why don't I start the paperwork and give you two a few minutes alone?"

He didn't hear her leave as he pulled a chair up next to the baby. He watched for a few long moments as the child's chest rose up and down with each carefully monitored breath. "Hey, little guy," he said, his voice just above a whisper. "Welcome to the world."

* * *

A/N: Thoughts? Opinions? Let me know!


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: Thank you for the continued support! Enjoy!

**Chapter Two**

Rosha was awake when Eric stopped by to see her the next night after work. She was still in bed, hair pulled away from her face, no make-up on, looking exhausted. But still, she smiled when she saw him walk through the doors.

"Hey," she yawned widely.

"Hey yourself," Eric smiled back. He offered a bouquet of Gerber daisies. "I brought you these—congratulations."

Rosha's smile grew by half. "Thank you so much!" she accepted his gift and buried her nose in the colorful flowers. "They're beautiful."

Eric pulled a chair up next to her and took a seat. "So how are you feeling?"

She made a face. "Like I got struck by lightning after I got hit by a bus. How about you?"

He laughed. "In comparison, I feel pretty damn good."

"The nurse put a rush on the paternity results," she said suddenly, scratching at the side of her nose. "They should be in by tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Oh," his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Well that's good."

"Yeah," she made a move to lay the flowers on the side table before she grimaced in pain. "Oh ow. Ow…damnit."

"Are you okay?" Eric panicked and got to his feet.

"Well, no. They took my guts out yesterday." She caught the face he made and smiled. "I know, pretty gross, right? Anyway, I'm not supposed to be moving in anyway that aggravates my incision." She let out a deep, pained breath. "Something that I'll just have to keep reminding myself."

"You sure you're okay?" Eric took the flowers and set them down for her. "I can get a doctor for you."

"I'm fine," she waved his concern away. "No worries."

"Have you seen the baby yet?" he asked, wondering why the room was lacking the infant they were all there for.

"Oh, yeah," she smiled again. "We spent the day together but then they whisked him away to do all sorts of tests and checks and," she shrugged, "other sorts of doctor what-have-you."

"Good," Eric nodded. "That's good."

"Have you seen him?"

"Yeah, last night," he smiled to himself. "He's a good lookin' kid."

Rosha grinned. "I thought so too."

"Look, Rosha, about these test results…"

"I stand by what I said before," she stated firmly. "It's totally up to you."

"I know, and I'm saying that if he turns out to be mine, well," Eric shrugged, "I want to be involved."

She smiled, examining him in a new light. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Of course," she nodded, stray pieces of dark hair falling into her face. "If he's yours, he's yours. I can't keep him from you."

"Well, I mean, how does this work? Do we…I don't know…do we date? Do we get married—"

"No offense," she cut him off, "but I don't really know you."

Eric laughed. "I don't know you either!"

She joined him with a giggle. "I guess we kind of did this backwards, huh?"

He sighed, feeling much better all of a sudden. "Yeah, I guess we did."

Eric stayed and watched Letterman until Rosha fell asleep again. They hadn't planned much or shared anything important, but they'd made each other laugh and feel just a bit more at ease. As he left, he couldn't help but thinking that—despite the bizarre circumstances—this wasn't the worst second date he'd ever been on.

0x0x0

He was in the car with Calleigh the next afternoon on their way back from a call out when his phone rang again. It was the hospital.

"Here we go," he muttered to himself, staring at the display for a moment.

Calleigh glanced sideways from the driver's seat. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded and flipped open the phone. "This is Delko."

"Hi, Mr. Delko, this is Dr. Jerene Carter, I'm calling from Dade Memorial with your test results."

He took a deep breath. "Go ahead."

"Are you sure you want to do this over the phone?"

"Yeah, go for it."

"Okay then," he heard a rustling of papers. "It looks as though you are a positive familial match…you are the father."

Eric's hand, which had been twitching nervously at his side stopped. "I am."

Calleigh glanced over again, wide-eyed.

"Yes, Mr. Delko. If you'd like to stop by the hospital at some point today we can get all of your paperwork filled out." She paused in her rustling and he heard a smile in her voice. "Congratulations."

"Uh…yeah…" he rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Great, we'll see you sometime today then."

"See you then."

He tucked his phone back into his pocket and stared straight ahead.

"I can drop you off," Calleigh said softly, slowing the car at a red light.

"What?"

"At the hospital," she clarified. "I'm sure you'd rather be there right now."

"No," he shook his head. "I don't…I don't really know what I want right now."

He knew what he'd said before, not even twelve hours ago, but that when it was all speculation. It was the right thing to say to someone who'd just had a baby by herself. Someone you liked, despite how you'd met them. But now, as the reality of what was really happening began to hit him, he wasn't so sure he was able to follow through on what he'd promised.

Calleigh turned and met his eyes. "You want to talk?"

"I don't know."

She nodded and turned back to the road as traffic began moving again. "You let me know."

They lapsed into pensive silence for the rest of the ride. It wasn't until Calleigh was pulling into CSI that Eric spoke again. "Would you—" he stopped himself and started again. "Do you think maybe you could…"

Calleigh's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Would you please come with me? Tonight," he continued hurriedly, "to the hospital." He was answered with a stunned silence and Calleigh's raised eyebrows. "You don't have you, obviously, I just…I'm kind of…I don't know…forget I asked," he shook his head and pushed open the door.

"No," Calleigh grabbed his hand. "I can go."

"You will?"

She nodded. "If that's what you need," she shrugged, "that's what I'll do. Okay?"

He gave a slight smile, the pressure in his chest diminishing. "Thank you."

"Anytime," Calleigh squeezed his hand. It was the first conscious move she'd made to touch him in the last week. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed her touch.

0x0x0

When they passed through the sliding glass doors of the maternity ward that night, people were waiting for Eric. Three people—to be precise. Dr. Carter, who'd spoken to him on the phone, the friendly nurse who'd taken his blood, and another woman he didn't recognize.

Three of any staff waiting for you was rarely a good sign.

"What's going on?" he asked immediately, noting the worried looks on all three of their faces. "What is it? Is it the baby—is he okay?"

"Mr. Delko, your son is fine," Dr. Carter began soothingly. "Please calm down."

"Well then what's going on?"

"It's the mother," the stranger of the group began nervously.

"Rosha? What's wrong with Rosha?"

Dr. Carter looked around at the anxious faces in the waiting room. "Darla," she lowered her voice, "we shouldn't do this here."

"Somebody better start talking," Eric interrupted their conference before it could begin. He felt a hand on his arm and looked down to see Calleigh's green eyes full of worry.

"Eric…" she warned, her voice just above a whisper.

"Mr. Delko, why don't you follow us," Dr. Carter motioned down the hallway. She turned her gaze toward Calleigh. "Are you family?"

"Yes," Eric answered firmly for her. They began the trek down the hall. "What's going on?" he asked once they'd left the earshot of the waiting room. "What's wrong with Rosha?"

"Nothing was _wrong_, as far as we could tell, Mr. Delko," the nurse began. "Everything seemed perfectly normal and then the next thing we knew…"

"The next thing you knew…_what?" _he implored. "What. Happened."

"Ms. Ortiz is gone," Dr. Carter said.

"Are you telling me she's dead?" he demanded, his jaw set into a harsh square.

"No!" the nurse exclaimed. "We're telling you she's gone. She checked herself out AMA."

"What?"

"Mr. Delko, I'm Shannon McBride," the stranger finally introduced herself. "I was Rosha's lactation consultant."

"Her what?"

"I was assigned to help her get started with her breastfeeding."

With his mind spinning the way it was, all of this information was meaning very little to him. "Okay…"

"We had an appointment today at three. I explained what she was supposed to do, she seemed okay with giving it a try, and then…"

"Then what?"

"It's very common with first time mothers—they're nervous and scared and worried and when things don't go right the first time, they get discouraged."

"Where is this going?"

"She started getting anxious and worked up," Shannon continued hurriedly. "I asked if she wanted to stop and she said yes, that she just needed some air and she'd be fine. I told her I'd come back in an hour and we'd try again. And when I came back, she was gone."

"You're not making any sense," he told the three women. "This is a hospital. She's a patient. She can't just leave without anyone noticing."

"We told you," the Asian nurse reiterated. "She cleaned out her room and checked herself out—Against Medical Advice."

"Who checked her out?"

Dr. Carter sighed wearily. "One of my interns—before you say anything, it's being dealt with."

"It'd better be." A silence settled over the five of them. Eric ran his hands over his face. "What do we do now?"

"I understand that this changes things considerably," the doctor said, her voice never losing its comforting patience. "I've arranged for someone from Social Services to come down and talk to you to go over your options."

Eric nodded. "I want to see my son."

"I can take you back," the nurse volunteered quickly. "Both of you," she corrected, twitching a smile in Calleigh's direction.

She led them back to a room Eric hadn't visited before. It branched off from the nursery and had walls lined with wooden rocking chairs, sterile looking cribs and changing tables, and a large shelving unit stacked with blankets, diaper, bottles and other baby accessories. The nurse left them alone for a moment.

Eric sighed heavily. "I don't believe this."

"Eric, I'm so sorry," Calleigh shook her head, not knowing what else to say.

"It doesn't make any sense. She seemed fine with everything last night…what could have changed?"

"Can you call her?" she suggested, her fingers playing with a knot of yarn on a stray afghan.

Eric remembered the cell phone tucked in his pocket. "Yeah, I could." He flipped it open and scanned through his contacts before finding her number. It rang twice before he was greeted with three loud beeps. _Beep beep beep. We're sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again. _He hung up the phone. "It's been disconnected."

Calleigh's phone was pressed to her ear before his was closed. "Ryan can you do me a favor?" she began kindly. "I need you to find somebody for me—Rosha Ortiz?" she paused. "Try surrounding states." Another pause. "Okay. I'll call you back." She hung up the phone. "She's not in the system."

"I don't think she's from around here," Eric muttered, sinking into a nearby chair. "She said she was staying with a friend until she got everything sorted out."

"Eric, we're cops. We can find anybody."

The nurse interrupted them as she rolled the baby in. He'd been moved from his incubator into a regular hospital bassinette and dressed in a white onesie, blue hat and matching blue socks. The dark-haired woman bent and scooped him up in his blankets and turned to Eric. "Would you like to hold him?"

In spite of everything that was whirling through his mind, Eric's heart stopped for a moment. He had been putting off this moment until the results had come in for fear of getting too attached. But now there was nothing holding him back. He smiled. "Yes, please."

The nurse settled the baby in his arms, checked to make sure his head was cradled and stepped back. "You should be very proud," she said softly. But Eric wasn't listening. His eyes were locked on the tiny child in his arms. He had held his nieces millions of times before but this was different. This was _his _son. The gravity of it hit him at once—he could scarcely breathe.

Calleigh's phone rang just as she was about to step out to give them some privacy. "I'll be right outside," she told him needlessly as she flipped open the phone.

"Okay," he said softly, not looking up. At the sound of his voice, his son's eyes fluttered open and they looked at each other for the first time. Eric's breath caught in his chest once more. He'd been right—dark brown eyes. Just like his. "Hey," he whispered, a smile coming to his face. "It's Daddy." He bent and pressed a gentle kiss to the child's forehead. "I know everything's kind of crazy right now," he continued in the same hushed tone. "But I'm going to figure it all out. I promise."

The baby's miniscule hand curled around Eric's finger. A tiny, significant sign of total trust in his father.

0x0x0

Filling out paperwork had never been Eric's cup of tea. He'd known going in that it was going to be a pain in the ass but filling things out in triplicate? That seemed excessive. Nearly three hours had passed from the time he and Calleigh had first arrived at the hospital. His meeting with Social Services had been brief—he was keeping his child, end of story. They'd discussed Rosha and what her rights as the biological mother were and how they would change depending on when and if she decided to contact the baby.

"Obviously," the social worker had added, "we'll still be doing everything in our power to contact Ms. Ortiz."

It was almost ten o' clock when everything was finished. He signed his name for what felt like the millionth time and pushed the mountain of paperwork toward the nurse for the secretary. "Is that the last of it?" he asked as she began flipping through.

"That's the last of it. As long as all this checks out, you can take your son home with you tonight." She got up and left the room.

Eric followed her out to the hallway where Calleigh was waiting. She smiled. "How'd it go?"

"They said if everything checks out I can take him home tonight but…"

"But what?"

"I don't have anything," he said nervously. "I don't have a car seat or a crib or a stroller or anything to feed him…"

"Wrong you are, Delko," the unmistakable voice of Ryan Wolfe came from behind him.

Eric followed Calleigh's sparkling eyes and turned around to see his friend wheeling a large stroller down the hall. He laughed. "What the hell is this?"

"The best car seat/stroller combination a very small amount of money could buy," Ryan proudly parked the new toy in front of Eric and Calleigh and crouched to the side. "Check it out—you just pop this out when you just need the car seat," he demonstrated. "And then, when you're ready to cruise through the park, you just pop it back in and off ya go!"

Eric laughed as Ryan stood up. "Thank you, Wolfe. It means a lot."

"Hey," he shrugged. "We all pitched in."

"Ryan! Where are you?" a voice called from the elevators.

"Valera?" Eric asked, peering around his partner. Sure enough, Natalia and Valera came stumbling from the elevator, each clutching a pack of diapers and split between the two of them, two containers of formula, a pack of bottles, a pack of blankets, and a few outfits. "I don't believe this," he said through a smile.

"We were all supposed to come _together,_" Valera huffed by the time she reached them. "But then Ryan got all excited and took off of with the stroller and left Natalia and I in the lurch."

"Technically, I left you in the elevator," Ryan pointed out. "It could've been worse. I could've made you take the stairs."

"You guys," Eric interrupted with a shake of his head. "Thank you," he said, not knowing what else there was to say. "Thank you so much."

"Hey," Natalia shrugged amidst her packages. "It's not everyday CSI has a baby."

"I have cards!" Valera remembered, looking around for a place to put her load down. She found none. "Ryan, they're in my purse. Get them."

He found three cards, one they'd all signed, one from Horatio, and one from Alexx and her family. "Oh," Ryan added as he handed the cards off. "And Horatio wanted me to tell you that as of tomorrow, you're on paternity leave."

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Paternity leave?"

Ryan shrugged. "He could only get you two weeks…because technically paternity leave doesn't exist."

"You didn't have to do this," he said, looking around from one to the other.

"Of course we did," Calleigh stepped up behind him and rested her hand on his back. "We're family."

He smiled as another woman in scrubs came from the nursery carrying a familiar bundle of blue blankets. "Look at this welcoming party you have waiting for you," she smiled down at the baby. "You must be one lucky kid."

She handed him off to his father and watched with pleasure as everyone crowded around. That was one lucky kid indeed.

* * *

A/N: Whoa! Big chapter! Lots to absorb. What are your thoughts?


	4. Chapter Three

A/N: I'm so happy everyone's accepted Daddy!Eric so effortlessly! It fills me with the warm fuzzies. Enjoy this next little snack.

**Chapter Three**

Calleigh looked up from her microscope and rubbed at her eyes. She took another sip of her coffee, horribly displeased when she found it to be ice cold. How long had it been sitting there? She couldn't remember. She turned her attention back to squinting at striations.

"How's it coming?" Ryan asked, pushing open the doors to the ballistics lab.

"It's coming," she stopped to allow a huge yawn to escape her lips. "My eyes don't want to seem to cooperate."

"Late night last night?" he asked as he handed her a fresh cup of coffee.

She smiled gratefully and took a long sip. "I didn't leave Eric's until four."

Ryan's eyebrows rose suggestively. "Giving Daddy some sugar?"

Calleigh laughed and rolled her eyes. "Giving Daddy some help. Poor guy hasn't dealt with babies in almost seven years—he's out of practice."

"You're such a nice person."

"I just wish we could find Rosha."

"His baby mama?" Ryan verified, earning him a raised eyebrow from his companion. "Just something I've heard on the street."

"Do me a favor," she requested.

"Never again?"

"Precisely."

"Got it."

"Thank you." She rubbed at her eyes again. "Did you run her name again?"

Ryan sighed. "Yes, twice. It would be nice if we had any information on her…anything at all."

Calleigh thought for a minute. "Eric said she told him she was staying with a friend."

"That narrows it down to people with friends," he looked toward the filing cabinet. "Where do we keep that list, again?"

She narrowed her eyes. "It's all we've got. We've found people on less."

"Yeah, usually because they've committed a crime."

"Don't you want to help Eric out?"

He gave her a look. "Of course I do. But Calleigh…"

"What?"

"She abandoned her kid. I mean, you saw that baby—what kind of person could do that?"

"I know," she said quietly.

"I just don't know what kind of a help she'll be even if we do find her. Maybe Delko's better off."

Calleigh sighed and leaned back against the table. "We should get back to work."

"Yeah, I'm going to see if Valera has anything for me over in DNA."

"Getting a little sugar yourself?" Calleigh asked, hiding her smile in her coffee cup.

Ryan gave her another look. "That's cute how you use my own quips against me."

0x0x0

Eric had been okay the whole night. He had done his best to remain positive while Calleigh had been there, patiently reminding him how to heat up formula, circling baby items in the Penny Saver while he attempted to get his son to stop crying, offering suggestions as to what how he should break the news to his parents.

But now, having been alone for almost twelve hours with a screaming child and roughly twenty minutes of sleep, Eric was starting to realize why most people paired off _before _they had babies.

"I don't know what you want from me," he told the baby plainly. "You're fed, you're changed, I hold you—you cry, I put you down—you cry...I'm running out of ideas here."

There was a knock at the door—Eric practically sprinted. He was surprised to find his older sister, Isabella and his seven year old niece, Ana, standing on the other side. Izza had a large box propped against one hip. Despite the wails that were coming from inside the apartment, Eric smiled. "Big sister to the rescue, huh?"

"Somebody had to come make sure you were all right," Izza rolled her eyes and pulled her little brother into a hug with her free hand. "Plus," she motioned to the bouncing little girl beside her, "this one couldn't wait to see him."

"_Tio _do I have a cousin?" Ana asked excitedly kicking off her shoes.

"You sure do," Eric assured her wearily. "He's not too pleased with me right now."

"Neither is _Abuelo_," Ana told him with the patented matter-of-factness of a seven year old.

"Hey," Izza swatted her daughter lightly. She set the box down. "Ana, see if you can count how many clothes I have in here for your new cousin, okay?"

Ana had heard that tone before. "In another room?" she asked morosely.

"Only for a few minutes," her mother promised. She waited until Ana had dragged the box into the living room before she went to the wailing infant. "Did you feed him recently?"

"Yes."

"Burped him?"

"Yep."

"Changed him?"

Eric sighed. "Yeah, I did all that. He's still crying."

Izza's eyebrows huddled close together. "Hmm," she looked thoughtfully at her new nephew for a few moments before she reached down and scooped him up. Almost immediately—and to the great shock of all three of them—he stopped crying. "Well that seems to have worked."

"I did that. Why didn't it work for me?" Eric asked desperately.

She shrugged. "You don't have a woman's touch."

"Gee, thank you for pointing that out."

"Trying to be helpful."

"Thanks for the clothes, by the way," Eric collapsed into a kitchen chair, grateful for the temporary quiet.

"Anytime. I tried to avoid anything too girly."

"I appreciate anything I can get." They sat in silence for a few moments. "So _Papi's_ mad, huh?"

"He'll calm down," Izza assured him.

"I hope so. How's _Mama_?"

"She's…upset," his sister shrugged. "I'm not going to lie to you. She's praying a lot. You know, child out of wedlock…that whole deal."

He sighed. "He's not going to Hell just because I screwed up."

"You know that and I know that, but that's because we're rational thinking human beings." She smiled. "But this is _Mama_ and _Papi_ we're talking about. Tessa's over there now trying to talk them down."

"She always was the favorite."

"You just be thankful she is," Izza warned. "If anyone can calm _Papi_ down, it's Tessa."

"You think they'll come around?" he asked, his eyes hopeful.

"They have to," she said honestly. "You're their son and he's their grandson. Besides, once they get a good look at him, they'll fall in love. Who couldn't love a baby?" Izza looked down and brushed her knuckles against the baby's cheek. "He's beautiful, Eric."

"Thanks."

"What did you name him?"

His eyes widened. "I haven't yet."

"You haven't?"

"I'm a terrible father," he said, "I've been so busy trying to get him to stop crying that I forgot to give him a name."

Izza laughed. "Calm down, you've still got time. His birth certificate won't be ready for another week anyway. Just call the hospital before then."

"What kind of person forgets to name their own kid?" Suddenly, the baby started wailing again. Izza's eyes narrowed in thought. She got to her feet and deposited her nephew back into his father's arms. Eric froze. "What are you doing? We've already established that I don't have the touch. This isn't going to work."

"Eric," Izza said firmly, leveling her eyes with her brother, "don't you see what you're doing?"

"I'm not doing anything!" he exclaimed.

"You're stressing him out."

"He's a baby. Babies don't have stress."

"He may be a baby but he's taking all of his cues from you," she explained patiently. "If you're this anxious, how do you think he feels?" Her tone softened. "Look at him, Eric."

"I know," he sighed wearily.

"No," Izza insisted firmly. "_Look _at him." She patted his shoulder. "He and I both know you can do this—you just have to know it too."

Eric took a few deep breaths. He rocked the baby in his arms slowly, trying to remain as calm as he could. After a few minutes, his son's cries subsided and he settled for a quiet cooing.

Izza beamed down at her brother. "See? You're Super Dad already."

"Sixteen onesies, three bears and two books," Ana announced dramatically from the kitchen doorway. "Can I play with my cousin now?"

Eric grinned and motioned for her to come over. "I just calmed him down, okay?"

"When can we play?" Ana asked in a loud stage whisper.

"Not for awhile, I'm afraid," Izza reached out and ruffled her hair. "But when he's big enough you'll teach him all the fun stuff, right?"

"Can I teach him how to swim like you taught me, _Tio_?" she asked excitedly, already dreaming big plans for days to come.

Eric smiled. "You definitely can."

Ana leaned in and kissed the baby's forehead. "You're lucky," she whispered. "_Tio_'s so much fun."

0x0x0

"I was wondering when he'd get around to doing this," Ryan commented from his place on the floor.

"What?" Calleigh asked from the couch. "Picking out names or forcing you to do all the manual labor?"

The younger CSI looked at the pieces of wood that were supposed to grow up to be a crib one day. "Both, I guess. Hey, do you think the guy at Ikea thought you were buying this for a gay couple?"

She raised an eyebrow over the top of the book. "You mean a gay couple you were a part of?"

"Did I come off as gay to you?"

"You did keep saying it was for your partner and the new baby," she reminded, returning to the words in front of her.

"What else am I supposed to call them? Eric is my partner and the baby is new. I couldn't call them my sister and the old man—those terms don't apply."

"I can't see how it matters. The guy at Ikea wouldn't be the first stranger to assume you and Eric were in a relationship."

"You mean there've been others?"

"How's it coming, anyway?" she asked, changing the subject and flipping a page in the name book.

"Like most pieces of Swedish furniture," he let it drop and looked down at the useless instructions. "It comes with a helpful two pictures: all the pieces apart," he motioned to the mess around him, "and all the pieces together. And then it claims all you need is this handy-dandy Allen wrench."

"You'll figure it out," Calleigh assured him, not looking up from the book.

"It'll just be my fault if this crib falls apart with the kid in it."

"And down will come baby, cradle and all," she quipped with a smile as Eric and said baby re-entered the room.

"I always hated that lullaby," he admitted, plopping down on the couch beside her.

"How are things with your parents?" Calleigh asked, watching as Eric moved the baby from the crook of his arm to lay him on his lap.

"Better," he said, looking noticeably more relaxed. "They're going to stop by after my dad is done with work tomorrow."

She smiled again. "That's great."

"My dad still doesn't seem happy."

"That'll change," she promised.

Ryan got to his feet. "I'll be right back."

"Where's he going?" Eric asked, watching his friend leave the room.

Calleigh rolled her eyes. "Probably to go wash his hands. I knew I should've switched him jobs. We'll be here all night."

"Calleigh, thank you for the crib," he said suddenly, looking at all the pieces covering the living room. "I don't even know when I would have been able to go and get one."

"Well don't thank me just yet," she warned, "he might be five years old before Uncle Ryan ever finishes it."

Eric smiled. "But really," he squeezed her hand. "Thank you."

"It's the least I can do," Calleigh squeezed back. She turned her attention to the baby. "So, what are you going to call this mini you, hmm?"

He cocked his head and studied his son's face. "You think he looks like me?"

"Are you kidding me? Just look at that jaw line."

"I was thinking about Luke...but it doesn't really sound right with Timothy."

Calleigh looked at him. "Timothy?"

Eric shrugged. "Kid's gotta have a middle name. Do you think Speed would mind?"

She smiled. "Of course not. I think he'd be honored." She flipped through the book to the L's. "If you don't like Luke…what about Lucas?"

He studied the baby again. "Do you think he looks like a Lucas?"

Calleigh peered over his shoulder and smiled. "I think he looks like your son, and whatever you name him is what he's going to be."

"I like Lucas."

"Me too."

The phone rang again, startling them both. Eric checked the display and looked at Calleigh. "It's my parents again. Would you mind holding him for a minute?"

Surprised, Calleigh nodded and accepted the baby into her arms as Eric got up from the couch, switching easily into Spanish. "Well, Lucas Timothy Delko," she said quietly, laying him onto her chest, "we managed to get you a name." Her eyes fell to the pieces of crib again. "Now all you need is a bed and you're all set."

As if on cue, Ryan re-entered and reclaimed his seat amongst the rubble. "So is he named?"

Calleigh smiled. "He's named."

"What's the verdict?"

"Lucas Timothy Delko."

"Lucas," Ryan mulled this over, "that's a nice name. Not as nice as Ryan…"

Calleigh rolled her eyes. "Save it for the next one. I wouldn't want to name my kid after someone who can't build an itty bitty bed."

"I can build it!" he argued indignantly.

"Prove it."

And with that as motivation, Ryan set back to work. Calleigh leaned back on the couch and tilted her head towards Lucas, whose large brown eyes were closing slowly. She smiled down at him and rubbed her cheek against his soft curls; as he drifted off to sleep, Calleigh pressed a soft kiss to his tiny fingers.

Eric had stopped listening to what his mother was telling him. He leaned against the door frame and took in the sight, a deep feeling of contentment settling in his chest.

* * *

A/N: There's a random RaVe subplot that is developing without my permission. What think you of it? And while I was going to permanently link this story with "A Simple Sign" by the lovely Adorelo by naming the baby Joe, I was regretfully already married to another name. I'm 99 sure I'm not the first person to name Baby Boy Delko Lucas, but it's a name I really like and it sounds good with the other two it's paired with. Also, there is a bit of Angel borrowing. Cookies to those who can spot it. Thanks for your continued support! Mucho love!


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

A/N: Sorry this took longer than you're used to, guys. To quote everyone's favorite ballistics expert "Sometimes it's hard to have family." That line pretty much sums up the last three days. But yay! They're over now and ya'll have a bright shiny new chapter to lap up. Happy reading!

**Chapter Four**

Pavel Delko was an imposing man. He stood well over six feet tall, broad shouldered and with the dark eyes and strong features of someone who was to be taken seriously at all costs. Eric had always, on some level, been a little bit afraid of his father.

Today was no exception.

As he opened the door for his parents, Eric allowed himself to wonder if his father had unclenched his jaw in the twenty-four hours since they'd spoken on the phone. He offered a nervous smile. "_Mama, Papi, _come on in."

"Ana told us all about him," his mother said excitedly pushing her way into the apartment. She absently patted his arm on the way past to where Lucas was seated in his car seat on the coffee table. There was an excited inhalation before a string of soft Spanish words fluttered from her lips. "_Dios mio," _she exclaimed, bending to cradle the baby in her arms. "Oh, Eric, he's beautiful."

Eric couldn't help but feel a little proud. He looked back toward his father, only to be met with stony eyes. "Do you, uh, do you want to meet him, _Papi_?"

Pavel took a few careful steps toward his wife. "Chlorinda," he said quietly, an edge apparent in his voice.

She looked up from her grandson and nodded slowly. "I think I'll see what I could make you for dinner. Do you have chicken?"

"Yeah, _Mama_," Eric swallowed hard, reading his parents' nonverbal communication loud and clear. "It's in the freezer."

Chlorinda nodded, kissed Lucas before handing him back to Eric, and scurried into a room she knew she had control of. Pavel pointed to the sofa. "Sit down, Eric."

Eric had been rehearsing this speech all day; he took a deep breath as he set Lucas back into his car seat. "Look, _Papi_, before you start let me just get something out." His father looked taken aback, but motioned for him to continue. "I know that you're not…particularly proud of the choice I've made. That you wanted me to be a scientist or a doctor instead of a CSI, that you think I'm making a big mistake…that I should be married." He reached out and rocked the car seat idly. "And I know that this is going to be hard, okay? I know that. But this isn't—"

"Stop," Pavel held up his hand. "You stop right now."

"_Papi_—"

"No," his father cut him off firmly. "I listened to you long enough. You're going to listen to me now." He took a deep breath and looked his youngest child square in the eyes. "I know we've had our differences. There are things that I'm sure we both wish we could have done differently. But Eric, don't you ever accuse me of not being proud of my son." Eric's expression changed to one of surprise. "I know I don't show it the way that you think that I should," Pavel took a deep breath, struggling with delivering this news. "But I am proud of you, of what you've accomplished." He looked toward Lucas. "He's going to be baptized?"

Eric smiled. "Of course, _Papi_."

"Ana said he didn't have a name yesterday. He's gotta name now?"

"Lucas."

The older of the two accepted this with a slow nod. "I had an uncle once—Luka. I liked him…he taught me to fish when I was a boy."

"You never told me that."

Pavel reached out and touched his grandson's curls. "I never told you a lot of things."

He knew it was the closest his father would ever come to an apology. He patted his shoulder and looked down at the baby. "It's okay, _Papi_, you can tell him."

0x0x0

Ryan offered a collection of swabs to Valera over the table. "Here you are, fair analyst. We're hoping something matches with the vic's father."

Valera glanced up from scribbling her findings on a report. She motioned to the table with her eyes. "Okay."

He set the samples on the table. Valera returned to her report. "So how have things been going?"

"They're fine," she shrugged without looking up.

"Anything exciting happening?"

"You mean aside from a million cases I'm working on and you hovering?"

"I'm not hovering."

She glared. "You are."

"It's unintentional hovering," he promised.

"It's still hovering." They were quiet for a moment while Valera finished her report and began working on her new samples. She looked up. "Did you need something else?"

Ryan frowned. "I miss Delko."

Valera rolled her eyes. "He's only been gone a week."

"I know."

"And you've seen him and Lucas like, every night."

"I know."

"So what is there to miss?"

He sighed. "I miss our verbal sparring. I haven't been insulted all week."

Valera peered around the table at him, taking in his whole look with a critical eye. "Your hair looks stupid like that," she decided after a moment.

"You don't like it?" Ryan's hand moved to his hair. "I was going for a tousled kind of thing."

She rolled her eyes again. "I was trying to insult you."

Ryan's expression softened. "That's sweet."

"I tried."

"Hey, Valera, have you ever been a godmother before?"

Maxine shrugged. "Yeah, sure. My best friend from college made me her daughter's."

"Is it like a big deal?"

"To some people, I guess. I just send Melissa a card every year at Christmas and her birthday. Why?"

"Eric asked me if I'd be Lucas' godfather."

Valera raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you Jewish?"

"I don't practice."

"Do you practice Catholicism?"

Ryan squinted his eyes in consideration. "Does playing church with Necco wafers count?"

"You did that too?" Valera's face broke into a grin. "I thought my brother and I were the only ones who did that."

He shrugged. "I grew up in Boston. Everyone there is Catholic…y'know, except me. I just remember Tommy McMillan always getting to be the priest."

"Well what did you tell him?"

"Tommy McMillan? I told him to hurry up with the fake prayers—I gotta get to Hebrew school."

Valera's eyes were starting to hurt from all the rolling they were doing. "Eric."

"Oh, I told him yes. It's kind of an honor."

"Even if you might not technically be allowed to do it?"

He waved away the comment. "They're not going to grill me about my religious history. Anyway, his sister Izza's going to be the godmother…so I figure if Luke winds up with any big questions about God—or more importantly, that controversial Jesus character you all speak so highly of—he can go talk to her. I'll just be there to hand out money and Werther's Originals."

Her nose crinkled. "I thought that was a grandpa thing."

"Damnit."

0x0x0

It was almost eight by the time Calleigh rushed up the stairs of Eric's apartment. She knocked twice before trying the doorknob. To her surprise, it turned easily. "I'm sorry I'm so late," she began apologizing as she entered the apartment. "Things got all backed—" Calleigh stopped at the sight that greeted her.

Eric was sound asleep on the couch, Lucas snoozing peacefully on his chest. There was an empty bottle and towel on the coffee table and the remnants of a frozen dinner on the ground next to the remote. She smiled to herself and picked up the dirty dishes to toss into the dishwasher. She threw away the microwavable container and straightened up a few baby toys before working her way over to where the boys were sleeping.

Gently, she lifted Lucas from his resting place, trying not to disturb his slumber. No such luck. His face crumpled and he began to fuss. "Shh shh," Calleigh whispered, swaying back and forth. "You're okay. We're going to give Daddy a chance to get some sleep, okay?"

Eric's eyes fluttered open. He noticed Calleigh and sat up quickly. "Cal, I'm sorry. I just closed my eyes for a second."

She grinned. "It's no problem." Lucas had stopped fussing but was peering up at her with wide-awake eyes. "Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"No, no," he shook his head. "I'm fine. Besides, he needs Christening clothes for Sunday."

Calleigh looked down at Lucas and smiled again. "I can go for you. In fact, I'll take the baby and we'll give you the night off."

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Eric," she shot him a look. "You can barely keep your eyes open. I can handle it."

"Are you sure? I haven't really had him out in the stroller…"

"I'll let you know how it handles," she quipped, checking her watch. "When was the last time he ate?"

Eric squinted at the clock. "Seven-thirty."

"Okay, I'll pack an extra bottle in case." She placed Lucas in his car seat and began stuffing things in the well-stocked diaper bag.

"There's a few already made in the fridge."

"Look at you," she raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Getting the hang of this fatherhood thing, huh?"

"Calleigh, are you sure about this?" Eric ran a hand over his stubble. "I know kids aren't really your thing."

"Don't be silly," she waved a hand in his direction. "Lucas and I haven't really gotten a chance to get to know each other. It'll be good for us."

He smiled and sat back down on the couch. "No dresses, okay? I know it's a Christening _gown _but I don't want my son wearing a dress on his first day in church."

She shook her head with a smile. "No dresses, got it. We'll find something very manly, won't we?" she asked the baby as Eric reached into his back pocket for his credit card.

"And please don't break the bank."

Calleigh tucked the offered card into her purse. "I wouldn't dream of it—he's only going to wear it once."

Eric yawned and leaned back on the couch. "Thank you, Cal."

After a moment of struggling, she popped the car seat into its place in the stroller. She hitched both purse and diaper bag up onto her shoulder and wheeled the baby toward the door. "Say 'sweet dreams, Daddy'," she told Lucas and waved to Eric. "We'll be back soon."

Already, he felt himself missing his son. He waved from the couch and watched them stroll out the door and down the hallway. Eric looked around the room, figuring he should probably use the free time to do something productive. He got as far as thinking about clearing out his spare room before a wave of exhaustion overtook him and he fell promptly back to sleep.

The ride to the mall was relatively painless. Calleigh quickly got the hang of the car seat/stroller and deposited her purse and the diaper bag in the basket below. She browsed through the department stores, decidedly unimpressed with their selection for a while before heading toward the other end of the mall for the baby-specific clothes. On the way, her stomach rumbled, reminding her she had only eaten a salad for lunch that day. Seven hours ago. Calleigh pulled over at the food court and ordered herself a sandwich. She dropped down into a chair and turned the stroller to face her.

Lucas was looking as curious as a newborn could. Calleigh smiled. "Someday soon, little man, you will learn that this world has some pretty great things to offer. Tuna salad?" she asked before taking a large bite. "It's way up there on the list."

She moved the stroller back and forth with her foot as she made quick work of the sandwich. As she was finished up, a middle aged woman walked past, peering into the stroller as she did so. She stopped

"Oh my goodness, isn't he gorgeous!" she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her cheek.

Calleigh smiled. "Isn't he?"

"What's his name?"

"Lucas," she rocked the stroller again and swallowed the last of her tuna.

The woman smiled back at Calleigh. "It suits him," she said knowingly.

"I'll be sure to pass that on."

"How old is he?"

Calleigh thought for a moment. "He's a week today," she realized aloud.

The woman's smile faded. "Only a week?" she asked, straightening to her full height.

"Yes…?"

"I can't believe you'd take a child to a _mall _when he's only a week old! Don't you know how sensitive a baby's immune system is? You should take that child home this instant." Her dander sufficiently up, the stranger huffed away.

Calleigh sat stunned for a moment. She looked down at Lucas in shock. "Well that was rather rude," she assessed, getting to her feet and brushing the crumbs from her pants. "Let's get you a suit and get back home, huh?"

There was another stop for a diaper change before they reached a store where Calleigh finally had some success. It wasn't a dress and it wasn't made entirely of satin, unlike most of the outfits she'd seen. She'd found him a tasteful one-piece white suit with stitched on buttons and a tiny bow tie. Eric wouldn't mind the tie, she rationalized, he was a stylish guy himself.

"Do you need shoes to match?" the sales woman asked, motioning to the rack behind her.

Calleigh looked down at Lucas. "Think your daddy would object to the shoes?" She turned back to the clerk. "Yes, shoes please."

"Okay, what size?"

She bit her lip. "I…have no idea."

"Well how old is he?"

Her mind flew to the reaming she'd just received from a stranger. "A month," she lied quickly with a smile.

The sales girl peered over the counter into the stroller. "Oh wow, he's so tiny!"

Calleigh felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "Yeah, yeah he is."

"You'll want the newborn size, then," she nodded to herself and turned back to the shoe rack. She placed the little white shoes on top of the suit and rang up the sale. Calleigh paid with Eric's card and left the store.

"Now, it's not good to lie about your age," she told Lucas as they made their way back to her car. "But Auntie Calleigh didn't feel like getting yelled at again. We'll just keep that between the two of us, all right?"

Lucas was fussy by the time they got back to Eric's apartment. He was awake this time; she pushed open the door with another apology. "We were getting along quite nicely," she laughed. "I promise."

Eric rose to his feet and bent over the stroller while Calleigh set her packages down. "Looks like somebody missed his Daddy," he smiled as he brought the baby up into his arms. He checked the clock. "Or, he's just hungry and I'm giving myself a lot of credit." Calleigh laughed and dismantled the stroller. She rolled it into the closet and shut the door. "Was he okay?" Eric asked, moving into the kitchen to heat up the bottle he'd plucked from the diaper bag.

"Oh yeah," she nodded, "we had a great time." She picked up the shopping bag. "Want to see what we got?"

"Hit me," Eric requested as the microwave beeped.

"If you don't like it," she warned before she revealed the purchase, "you can just take it back."

"Let's see," he said with a smile.

She pulled out the suit and shoes for his approval. "No dress, nothing that's going to make him look like a lounge singer; I went for classy."

Eric's smile doubled. "It's great, Cal. You did a good job." He turned to Lucas. "You are going to be the best dressed kid in church thanks to that lovely lady over there." He twisted the cap back onto the bottle and went back into the living room.

The three of them sat down on the couch while Lucas was fed and burped. Calleigh watched with interest as Eric moved around the room, running his hand over his son's back. "It's amazing," she said, shaking her head.

"What is?"

"How quickly you've adapted to this whole situation," she motioned around the room where it had only taken a week for bottles to replace wine glasses and burping towels to replace the occasional stray article of women's clothing.

Eric smiled modestly. "What choice do I have?"

"I guess that's true," she nodded. "But even still, I'm proud of you."

"Well thanks," he peered over his shoulder. "I think it's bedtime for this guy, though. I'll be right back."

"I'll be here."

He was back in a few minutes with a monitor in hand. "I know I could hear him from here," he explained, dropping it onto the couch. "But my mom said I needed it," he shrugged. "I feel bad not using it."

"Aren't you just the model son," Calleigh joked with another shake of her head. Her hair came loose from her ponytail and fell into her face. "Everything's patched up now?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I think so."

"Sometimes I like it when I'm right," she smiled, stifling a yawn.

"Who are you kidding?" he asked with a smile. "You always like it when you're right."

Calleigh laughed. "You know me so well."

Eric's eyes strayed to the empty car seat. "It's still nice when you surprise me." He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I really appreciate everything you've done," he said softly.

"Stop thanking me," she murmured back as his hand moved behind her neck. She had almost forgotten what a conscious touch felt like from him.

"Cal, we haven't really…" he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Hmm?"

"Talked," he finished, dropping another kiss along her jaw.

"Mmm," Calleigh agreed, tilting back her head as he hit that spot on her neck. "We should talk," she ran her hand up his arm and drew her fingers across the skin on the back of his neck.

He tilted her head back down to eye level. "Do you want to talk now?"

She breathed into a smile and shook her head. "No, not really."

Eric grinned and brought his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, moving her head as he deepened the kiss. No matter how much she'd tried to deny it, she had missed this. His mouth left hers as he began trailing kisses over her jaw and down to her neck again, he smiled at her sharp inhale as he reached the spot just below her ear.

Her hands moved from behind his head back down his chest. She played with the edge of his t-shirt, teasing her fingernails against his skin.

A crackle from the monitor between them brought their moment to screeching halt. A moment later, the real screeching began. Calleigh sat back and placed a hand over her swollen lips. Eric sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said, getting to his feet.

"Don't be," she said quickly, straightening her hair and clothing.

Lucas needed changing and by the time he got back to the living room, Calleigh was tossing her purse over her shoulder. "Look, Cal, you don't have to leave."

"No, no, it's not…" she stopped and shook her head. "I have some work to catch up on."

He gave a defeated nod. "Yeah, okay." They looked around as an awkward silence descended upon them. "Well hey, thanks for all your help tonight."

Calleigh gave a nervous smile. "It was my pleasure." She pulled open the door.

"Are you still coming on Sunday?" he asked suddenly.

She stopped and looked back at him. "Of course. St. Augustus—ten am. I'll be there. Camera at the ready."

Eric smiled. "What would I do without you?"

She hitched her purse up onto her shoulder again. "Let's not find out."

He nodded. "Deal. Drive safe."

"Always do. Have a good night."

As the door shut for the second time that night, Eric collapsed on the couch and ran his hands over his face. He turned the television on in an attempt to overpower his hope that he hadn't just screwed everything up.

* * *

A/N: Pavel Delko is based on my grandfather and his relationship with my dad. (Thanks to lunavixen for setting me straight on the names!) Calleigh's scolding and subsequent lie is a direct recount of a story my mom told me about what happened to her when she took me to the mall at seven days old. Review? Get me back in the swing of things?


	6. Chapter Five

Thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback! I love you guys! Please enjoy and keep in mind that this was written without the approval of my roommate (the Zen master) who reads everything before I post it. Bon appetite!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

"Hey, Godfather," Calleigh called with a grin as she held the camera up. "Gimme a smile."

Ryan turned Lucas to face to camera and beamed. The flash twinkled and left him seeing blue dots. "Jesus," he commented, "that's bright. Let me see."

Calleigh sidled up next to him and hit the review button. "Now those are a couple of good looking guys," she commented with another smile. "Hand him over."

"What?" Ryan looked highly affronted. "No."

"C'mon," she sighed impatiently. "I was sent out here to get him."

"Who sent you?"

"Eric."

"No way," Ryan shook his head. "He's my wingman."

Calleigh rolled her eyes. "I'll trade you." She held out the camera enticingly.

He raised an eyebrow. "No fair."

"Don't care," she shrugged simply and reached for the baby. Ryan handed him over and snapped a quick picture. "Hey!" Calleigh exclaimed. "I wasn't ready!"

He shrugged. "You shouldn't have deprived me of my wingman."

She sighed and headed toward the house. "Thanks, Ryan," she called over her shoulder.

"Here to help!" he promised. "That's what we godfathers do." He sat down on the patio swing. "At least, that's what I _think _we do," he reasoned with himself. "No one's actually offered any kind of manual on this thing…"

"Are you talking to yourself again?" Valera asked as she dropped down next to him on the swing.

He looked over, surprised. "You say that like I do it all the time."

"I normally just let it go but," she motioned to the numerous family members and friends milling around between the crowded Delko house and the backyard, "there are people around."

"Right. Ever the life saver."

She smiled. "Here to help."

"So what did you think of the Christening?" he asked, trying to fight his feelings of nervousness.

"Compared to the other Christening's I've witnessed," Valera tilted her head back and forth in thought. "I thought it was a rockin' good time."  
"I didn't drop him," Ryan reminded proudly.

"I saw that."

"And God didn't strike me down in the middle of the ceremony for pretending to be Catholic."

"Saw that too. Which reminds me," she reached into her massive purse and retrieved a small red box with a white ribbon tied around it. "I got you something."

"Me?" Ryan blinked in surprise.

She shrugged. "Kind of a…welcome to godparent-hood thing. Don't get excited, it's nothing special."

Ryan had already seized the box. "Too late!" He pulled open the ribbon and gently removed the lid of the box. Inside, nestled on some tissue paper, was a black wristband with the letters WWJ embroidered in white. Ryan lifted it out gently and offered a confused look. "What Would Jesus Do?"

"Uh-huh."

He looked anxious. "I have no idea!"

"Exactly," she laughed. "Just think of it as a reminder to stick to what you're familiar with."

"Bribes of money and candy?"

Valera's head bobbed. "Precisely."

Ryan looked down at the bracelet and began to laugh. "That's very cute. Thank you, Valera." He only took a moment to contemplate before he wrapped his arms around her and hugged tightly.

"Whoa," she exclaimed, freezing in place.

Ryan immediately backed away. "I'm sorry. That was touching and it was inappropriate."

She gave a nervous laugh and tucked her short hair behind her ear. "Don't worry about it."

They sat in awkward companionship for a few moments before Ryan cleared his throat. "Do you want to go get something to eat?"

"Yes," she answered quickly and got to her feet.

He followed, shaking his head, trying to remember that he was a successful, attractive almost thirty year old man and _not _the stumbling, muttering, idiot thirteen year old he felt like around Maxine Valera.

0x0x0

Calleigh had made it three steps into the living room before she was approached by Eric. He gave a wide smile from across the room and made a beeline. "Hey, man of the hour," he took the baby from her and planted a kiss on his cheek. "You did great today, buddy."

She laughed and pushed back her hair. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Eric looked around. "You could try to get my mom out of the kitchen. She's been slaving away—I want her to enjoy herself a little bit."

Calleigh laughed again. "I'd put money on the fact that there's been someone trying to get your mother out of the kitchen for the last fifty years. But," she gave a valiant puff of her chest. "I'll do my best."

He watched as she made her way back to the kitchen before turning his attention to his son. "All right, little man, time for you to meet someone very important." He took off for the living room and found his target being entertained by two of his nieces. "H," he interrupted with the clearing of his throat.

Horatio looked up, his eyes still dancing. "Excuse me ladies," he addressed Ana and Dee. "There's someone I've been waiting to meet."

Five year-old Dee leapt from her spot next to Horatio so Eric could sit down. "That's my cousin," she said proudly. "He's really tiny," she continued as if Horatio couldn't see that for himself. "But that's just because _Mama_ says he's just hatched."

Eric smiled and reminded himself to thank Tessa for her phraseology the next time they both had a minute. "Why don't you guys go help Calleigh?" he suggested.

"What's she doing?"

"Trying to get _Abuela_ to have some fun," he reached out and ruffled Ana's already messy hair. "You're good at that, right?" They took off with a battle cry, leaving the adults shaking their heads. "Sorry about that, H."

"Not a problem at all, Eric." He turned his attention toward Lucas with a small smile. "Now this must be the young man I've heard so much about."

Eric smiled proudly. "This is Lucas. I wanted to personally introduce you. Do you want to hold him?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I do." The baby changed hands again, settling comfortably in the crook of Horatio's arm. "I noticed you gave him the middle name Timothy."

"Oh," Eric's eyes fell to the hardwood floor. "Yeah, I just…I don't know. Speed was my best friend and I…do you think he'd be mad?"

Horatio looked up from the baby for a moment. "Eric," he began, gravity weighing down his soft voice. "I don't think there's any greater compliment."

Although Calleigh had told him as much, hearing it from Horatio settled the issue in a way Eric couldn't have predicted. Ana appeared at his side again, out of breath. "_Tio, _Daddy's looking for you."

"Okay," he nodded, wondering what his brother-in-law could want. "I'll be there in a second." He looked at his boss. "Would you mind hanging on to him for a minute?"

"Of course not," Horatio smiled. He waited until Eric was out of earshot before he looked down at Lucas, who had just begun to fall asleep. "I guess I should thank you," he began softly. "Because I have a feeling that you," he paused and watched Lucas' large brown eyes closing slowly, "you are going to be what keeps him safe." He allowed the baby to wrap his hand around one finger and thought—not for the first time—that Marisol would have loved to have been there for this.

0x0x0

Two weeks had passed more quickly than he would have liked and before Eric knew it, it was time to return to work. Thanks to a helpful tip from Alexx, Lucas would be spending his days on the fourth floor of the police department in the daycare center provided for working parents.

Even though he was only a floor away, Eric couldn't help but miss the tiny person who'd quickly taken up his entire life. It was, however, a fact he was trying to hide from his co-workers.

"Hey," Calleigh greeted as he stepped off the elevator. "Did you get anything off those prints from the shower rod?"

"What?"

She pursed her lips. "The shower rod? You were going to run those prints."

"Oh," he looked down at the file in his hand. "Yeah, yeah I did. No match from CODIS."

"Were you planning on telling me?"

"Yeah, I just…I had to do something first."

"Eric," she said softly, "he's fine."

"I know he's fine."

"Because you just checked on him?"

A fact he was trying rather unsuccessfully to hide from his co-workers. "I was just…I was up there and I figured I'd just…" he gave a sound of frustration. "Nevermind."

"Wait," she hurried her steps to catch up with him down the hall. "Come on, I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

Eric stopped walking and turned to her. "Did you run the gun through AFIS?"

"Yeah, I did. It's registered to a Donald Otis…patrol's bringing him in."

"Good," he looked around and tapped the file off of his free hand. "Well, let me know if you need me in interrogation."

"Hey," she grabbed his hand and pulled him back to face her. "What's going on?"

"Oh, now you want to talk?"

Calleigh's eyes narrowed. "I understand you're having a rough time, and I don't really know what you're going through—"

"No, you don't."

"_But,_" she continued, "We have a job to do. So if you think there are things we need to talk about then let's talk about them."

Eric looked at the ground for a moment. "We should just get back to work."

"Okay."

"But maybe after shift we could get some coffee?"

She looked up, surprised to see him looking hopeful. She nodded. "Yeah, okay."

0x0x0

Lucas sat snoozing in his car seat on the chair next to Eric in the crowded coffee shop. He sipped nervously at his mug and glanced up as the bell above the door jingled. Calleigh grabbed an iced tea from the cooler and paid quickly before dropping into the seat across from him.

"Hey, sorry about that," she gave a smile and pushed her hair away from her face. "You must have just missed that accident a few blocks over. They had everything blocked off."

"Oh," he looked out the window. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"So I guess daycare tired him out, huh?" she asked, motioning to the sleeping baby.

Eric smiled. "Yeah—I guess it's a good fit. The girls couldn't stop talking about him—everyone loves him."

"Well that's not hard to do," Calleigh said softly, running the lightest of touches over the baby's cheek.

"Hey, I'm sorry I snapped at you," Eric apologized in a rush.

"You're under a lot of stress, I understand."

"Still, you didn't deserve that."

"Apology accepted," she took a sip of her iced tea. Her expression turned serious as she twisted the cap back on again. "But you're right. We do need to talk."

"Yeah," he nodded and looked down toward the table. "I guess we do."

"I don't know where to start," she said honestly.

"I just don't want things to be weird."

"They're not weird."

"Yeah they are," he countered. "I know things are different now but that doesn't…I still…" he sighed. "I don't know. I don't know why this has to change things between us."

Calleigh looked at the label on her tea and chose her words carefully. "They didn't change, Eric."

"Yes they did!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "Cal, three weeks ago we were…we were so close—"

"We're still close."

"That's not what I meant," Eric took a deep breath before starting again. "I mean that we were so close to being past this point."

"What point?"

"This point where we've been for the last six years! This…more than friends, less than…whatever the hell it is." He motioned to the air between them. "This point."

Calleigh nodded slowly. "I know."

"And then…everything changed."

"I was trying to give you some space," she defended softly.

"I don't want space," he said, his eyes bright with emotion. "I never wanted space in the first place."

"No, but you needed it."

"Why don't you let me worry about what I need right now," Eric said softly, reaching across the table to hold her hand in his. He looked at Lucas. "If this isn't something you can deal with, I get it," he said, sadness coloring his words as he met her eyes again. "But he doesn't change how I feel about you—how I've always felt about you."

Calleigh pursed her lips in thought and looked toward the baby again. "It just seems like there's a lot more at stake now."

Eric smiled. "It's you and me, Cal. There's always been a lot at stake."

A smile graced her lips as she tightened her fingers around his. "I want this to work," she said, her voice barely audible over the din of the café.

"Then let's make it work," he said as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

Her smile widened. "Okay."

Eric took her hand and pressed his lips to her fingers. "Okay."

* * *

A/N: Meh. Kind of a filler chapter. But these things have to happen. Reviews are appreciated something fierce.


	7. Chapter Six

AN: As always: you rock, fair readers. You rock hard and you rock good. Anyway, quick note—from now on, each chapter is going to be labeled by a month. It's what I wanted to do in the first place but realized that Lucas' first few weeks would be too important to gloss over. Enjoy!

**Chapter Six**

_May_

Eric glanced at his watch and back toward the door. What was taking so long? Calleigh had left almost an hour and a half ago without saying where she was going or when she'd be back. He looked down at Lucas, swaying happily in his new swing and checked his watch again.

"Well," he got up from the couch and headed toward the kitchen. "I guess someone can follow through with his dinner plans." He grabbed a bottle from the fridge and heated it in the microwave; he tested the formula on the inside of his wrist before taking it back to the living room. "C'mon, little man. Chow time." Unbuckling Lucas from the swing, he cradled him in one arm and eased the bottle between his lips. As the baby's jaw started moving, the door to the apartment opened and a case of beer was kicked slowly in. Eric's brow furrowed. "Calleigh?"

"Out here!" her sweet Southern voice called from the hallway.

"Do you need some help?"

"No," her voice came closer. "I got it." She appeared in the doorway carrying two armloads of groceries. "The grocery store was an absolute zoo," she exclaimed, kicking the door shut behind her.

"You've been at the grocery store this whole time?" Eric asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I didn't mean to be gone so long," she dropped the bags onto the kitchen table. "I'm sorry."

"I thought we were having dinner."

"We are," Calleigh smiled and raked her hair away from her face. "But you didn't have any food…" she looked toward the empty refrigerator and pantry. "That makes dinner a little difficult." She looked toward the baby. "Though it's good to know someone in this house eats on a regular basis."

Eric smiled down at his son. "Yeah, like a champ."

"That's always a good sign."

"Cal, you didn't have to go through all this trouble," he said, watching as she began unloading her purchases.

"Well somebody had to," she laughed. "You had an entire refrigerator full of condiments and no food."

"I had food…"

She fastened him with a look. "Frozen dinners don't count as real food."

"They _were_ those Hungry Man dinners…" he mumbled. "If that makes a difference." Calleigh chuckled and closed the freezer door. She moved into the living room and picked up the case of beer she'd kicked in. "You bought me beer too?"

"Yeah, sure," she shrugged and opened the refrigerator. "You're not breastfeeding, you can drink."

He gave an unimpressed look. "That's cute."

"Plus, it's not just for you—I plan on drinking some of this too."

"Fine by me," Eric looked down at Lucas who seemed to have lost interest in his bottle. "All finished?" He set the bottle on the coffee table and stood up, positioning the baby over his shoulder. "So what did you buy, anyway?" he called into the kitchen.

"You're in luck," she called back. "I'm feeling generous tonight." She laid out a package of chicken, a can of green beans, a bag of potatoes, and a bright blue box. "I'm making you a good old fashioned Southern dinner."

Eric smiled and went for a closer look. "Shake n' Bake?" he asked with a laugh. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Calleigh smiled over her shoulder from the sink. "Just lucky I guess."

He was about to comment on that when a small hiccough from next to his ear interrupted him; moments after that, a warm, moist spot appeared on his back. "Aw, man," he pulled his son away from his shoulder and glanced behind him. A puddle of spit-up formula was now staining his black shirt. "Lucas…"

Calleigh looked over again and noticed what had happened. She wrinkled her nose. "That's a good look," she commented, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Yeah," he shook his head. "Maybe I'll patent it." He grabbed a nearby dishtowel and wiped gently at Lucas' mouth. "I'm gonna go change. Mind if he stays out here with you?"

"No, that's fine."

Eric brought the swing into the kitchen and set it up on a chair facing the stove. "Don't give her a rough time," he ordered lightly before retreating back to his bedroom. After a few moments, she heard the shower running.

Calleigh dropped the chicken breasts in the plastic bag and shook it to coat the breadcrumbs. She combined the green beans with a can of mushroom soup and a few other ingredients while she waited for the over to preheat. With the chicken baking and the green beans casseroling, Calleigh poured the instant potatoes into a pot and waited for them to fluff up. At that point, Lucas began to cry again.

"Oh no," she turned the heat on the potatoes down and turned to face the baby. "No crying please." She unbuckled him from his swing and picked him up, distressed when his cried didn't stop. "Shh, shh…" Calleigh thought quickly, trying to remember something that had calmed her nieces in the past. "Uh…" Lucas' cries grew more insistent. She glanced out of the kitchen, checking to make sure the shower was still running. "I know this is turning into a habit," she said quietly, still swaying back and forth. "But this is just between you and me—got it?" Lucas continued to wail. Calleigh took a deep breath. "_Stars shining bright above you…night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'" _her voice cracked and went flat, but the baby seemed to be calming down. "_Birds singing in the sycamore tree...dream a little dream of me."_ She peered down at him, hoping that would be the end of it, but as soon as she stopped, he started again. Calleigh rolled her eyes. "_Say nighty-night and kiss me…just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me. While I'm alone and blue as can be…dream a little dream of me…_"

"That's pretty much a guarantee at this point," Eric's voice from the doorway startled her.

She let out a yelp and turned around, cheeks flaming. "You scared me."

He grinned. "I didn't know you sang."

The baby began crying again. "I don't," she insisted. "Which you obviously know now."

Eric laughed and took Lucas from her. "I thought it sounded nice."

"You big liar."

"No really, you should sing Doris Day more often."

"Okay," she turned back to the potatoes with a roll of her eyes. "The fact that you know that that's a Doris Day song speaks volumes. Is he okay?" she asked of the baby.

"Yeah," Eric began backing out of the room. "I think he needs changed because unlike that dinner you're making, he doesn't smell so great."

Calleigh grinned over her shoulder. "And they say romance is dead."

Within the hour, dinner was inhaled and Lucas was asleep. Calleigh collapsed on the couch and flipped on the television. "Are you sure you don't want help with the dishes?" she called, feeling guilty.

"No, don't worry about it," Eric yelled back. "I'm almost done. You find anything good?"

She continued flipping through the channels past the Marlins game, the news, CSPAN, and a reality shows before settling on a black and white movie on TMC. "Maybe," she called, not recognizing it at first. Frank Sinatra came on the screen, bringing a smile to her face. "Oh yeah, I found something."

Eric came back into the living room drying his hands on a dish towel. He tossed the towel on the armchair and dropped down next to Calleigh, draping an arm over the back of the sofa. "What is this?"

"It's your girl," Calleigh exclaimed with a laugh as Doris Day entered the scene.

Eric rolled his eyes. "C'mon everybody knows she sang that song…"

"Don't worry," she promised, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Your secret is safe with me." As an apology for her teasing, Calleigh leaned against him and rested her head on his chest.

Eric's arm fell across her back. He dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. Apology accepted.

0x0x0

They were finishing up for the day a few weeks later when Ryan noticed something flutter out of Eric's locker. He bent and picked it up, surprised to see it was a picture of Calleigh and Lucas, taken at the Christening party.

"Hey," he exclaimed. "I took this!"

"Yeah," Eric snatched it back. "I know."

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "Keeping pictures in our lockers now, are we?"

He was met with a look. "He's my son. What kind of father would I be if I didn't have pictures of him all over the place?"

"It's just nice, y'know, that Calleigh tends to be in quite a few of them…she is rather photogenic."

Eric sighed and stuck the picture back in his locker. "If you have a point, Wolfe, now would be the time to make it."

"I'm just voicing the opinion of the lab…if you guys are together, then you should…y'know, make it official. Make us all stop guessing."

"And slow that rumor mill down?" Eric looked appalled. "Never."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "You could at least tell _me. _I follow the Guy Code—lips are sealed," he pantomimed zipping and locking his lips shut.

"Rarely sealed enough," Eric sighed again and closed the locker. "We're taking things slow," he admitted. "One day at a time kind of thing."

"I get that," Ryan nodded with understanding.

"Yeah, I guess you would," Eric agreed, not being able to help getting in a dig. "I mean, after all you've been dancing around this Valera thing since you got hired…"

"What is that supposed to mean? I thought we were talking about you."

"C'mon, man. Everyone knows you like her—why don't you just ask her out?"

"For your information," he began indignantly, "she came over last night, actually."

Eric's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really? Way to go, Wolfe. What did you do?" Ryan's brief moment of pride died swiftly. He turned back to his locker with a mumbled response. "I didn't catch that, Wolfe. What did you guys do?"

"We might have played video games," he muttered quickly, wishing very much that the topic had never come up.

The look on Eric's face was crestfallen. "Video games?"

"Maybe…"

"What are you, thirteen?"

"Twenty-seven. And it was her idea."

"I don't care whose idea it was. Be a man. Ask her out to dinner."

"I don't think that's the best plan of action."

Eric scoffed. "But you think beating her at Halo is?"

"Look, I'm not like you, okay? I'm not smooth and…y'know…all….hot and stuff." His companion raised an eyebrow. "Oh, shut up. Like you don't know you're hot."

"Again, I'm going to ask for your point…"

"My point is that I'm not anyone's ideal," Ryan muttered, focusing once again on packing up his bag. "It makes making a move a little more difficult."

Eric took a deep breath and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You're a weird guy, Wolfe, I'm not going to lie to you."

"Gee, thanks."

"But you're also a good guy…and trust me, that goes a long way with most women."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, definitely. Plus," he added as a selling feature, "Valera's a weird girl. You guys are a match made in nerd Heaven."

Ryan looked at him very fondly all of a sudden. "Y'know, Delko…"

"All right, all right, we don't need to hug about this."

"I think we might."

He rolled his eyes. "You called me hot, I told you you were a great guy…I think the point is made."

Ryan considered this before breaking into a grin. "You're right. We wouldn't want to feed that rumor mill any more than we already have."

Eric patted his shoulder again. "Got that right. So, you going to ask her out?"

"Maybe tomorrow."

"Wolfe…"

"She already left for the day!"

"And you don't have her number?"

"That's not something you call about. It's more of an in person thing."

Eric's eyes rolled again. "Whatever you say, man." He hitched his bag up onto his shoulder. "Have a good night."

"Say hi to the wife and kids for me," Ryan called, earning him a middle finger in return.

0x0x0

The following Saturday had been reserved for the official transformation of Eric's office into Lucas' nursery. The baby had been taken to his grandparents for the day and Calleigh had come over early with her toolbox and her hair tied up in a bandana, ready to help.

She'd been tackling the assembly of the changing table while Eric worked on painting the walls. "You think this is an okay color, right?" he asked for the millionth time.

She looked up with exasperated eyes. "It's blue."

"It's not too blue, though, right? He's not going to be depressed, is he?"

Calleigh laughed. "He's a baby. I'd be very interested to see a baby be depressed with all the attention he gets."

"You think I spoil him?" Eric asked seriously, dipping the roller back in the tray.

"Of course you do," she smiled, returning her attention to the changing table. "But don't worry, you can't actually spoil a baby under six months by holding him too much."

"Oh yeah? Where did you hear that?"

"Just something I read once," she answered with a careless toss of her ponytail.

Eric didn't want to push it, but he couldn't help the smile that came to his face at the thought of Calleigh reading baby books. His stomach grumbled just as there was a knock at the door. "Pizza guy," he muttered, reaching for the money on the dresser.

"Mmm," Calleigh grinned up at him as he passed her. "Just in time, I'm starving."

He had paid and tipped the pizza driver when he noticed his mail sticking out of the slot. He grabbed the handful of envelopes and, balancing two cans of beer on the pizza box, returned to the blossoming nursery. Calleigh dug hungrily into her slice of pepperoni, watching with interest as Eric studied a particular letter, stuffed among the typical bills and mailers.

"Everything okay?" she asked, swallowing a large mouthful.

"No return address," he said to himself, sliding a paint spattered finger under the seal and sliding the paper out of the envelope.

_May 15_

_Dear Eric,_

_I'm sure I'm the last person you want to hear from right about now, but I thought you deserved some kind of explanation for my actions. I know this isn't the right way to do this…there is really no right way to do this. I don't think there's any way I can explain why I chose to leave my baby that day…especially to someone who chose not to._

_I thought I had things under control. Please know that when I came looking for you, it wasn't so I could dump this responsibility on you and get off scot-free. I honestly thought that I could handle everything that came along with motherhood and that, despite the circumstances that brought him into my life, I was ready to have a baby. I was wrong. I guess there are some things that you can't really know about yourself until you face them head on. Anyway, I knew then that I wasn't cut out to be a mother and I didn't think that time would do anything but make my decision harder on both of us. He was too young to remember me…it was the best time to go. I know that doesn't excuse what I did—it's something I have to live with everyday—but it's the best I can give you._

_I wanted to write to you because I wanted to thank you. I'm glad that if things had to happen the way that they did, that they happened with you, and now our son has a chance at a bright future being raised by someone who loves and can take care of him. I know you'll do the best you can and give him a great life. Maybe someday I can explain all of this to him myself, but I have a feeling that if that day exists, it's far, far in the future._

_If I never get the chance to, I hope someday you can explain everything to him. I hope he doesn't hate me—I hope you don't hate me, but rather you both can understand that what I did I did because it was the best thing for all three of us._

_I know you'll do a great job._

_-Rosha_

The letter fell from Eric's hands, landing on the open lid of the pizza box. Calleigh read over it quickly before refolding it and pursing her lips in thought.

"I hadn't thought about that," Eric said quietly after a few minutes.

"Thought about what?"

"What I was going to say to him if Rosha didn't come back…" he shook his head. "I hadn't thought about what I was going to say if she _did _come back."

Calleigh nodded and looked back down at the letter. "It looks like she's made her decision."

"Yeah, isn't that nice," he spat bitterly. "She just gets to walk away from her son like this whole thing never happened."

"Well," she looked around the baby's room. "He's got one parent who loves him and a lot of family, he's a lucky kid, Eric—you're doing a good job."

"Yeah, but someday he's going to realize something's missing."

"Then when he starts asking questions," she pushed the envelope into his hands, "you give him this and you do the best you can to explain it to him."

Eric nodded and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You're amazing, you know that?"

She pulled away and smiled up at him. "I know." He laughed and her job was done. "C'mon, let's get back to work—we promised this kid a room by the end of the day."

Eric watched her return to building, pausing occasionally to take large bites of pizza. He couldn't help but hope that the someday he'd mentioned for his son would never come. That he wouldn't have to realize something was missing, because she was right in front of them. Just like she'd always been.

* * *

AN: That was surprising! Even I didn't see that coming. Any of it. The whole damn chapter took me by surprise. Don't you just love it when that happens? Anyway, reviews are always most definitely appreciated. Much love! Oh, and Calleigh's little solo number was, of course "Dream a Little Dream" by the fabulous Doris Day.


	8. Chapter Seven

AN: This chapter is dedicated to my ferocious kitty Radcliffe who seemed to sense when I was writing it and camped out (all twelve pounds of him) on my chest, refusing to move. Warning—this chapter jumps around a bit. Enjoy!

**Chapter Seven**

_June_

Calleigh was all smiles as she made her way through the lab. She picked up a tox screen from Natalia and studied it for a moment. "Well that explains why she died from a superficial stab wound…she was overdosing on aspirin when she was killed."

Natalia scratched the back of her neck. "That's what it looks like."

"Hmm…" Calleigh shrugged her shoulders and offered her coworker a sunny smile. "Well, that's irony for you."

Natalia matched her smile with a raised eyebrow. "You're in a good mood," she commented.

"Hmm?"

"Any particular reason?"

Calleigh shrugged again, sliding the tox report into the file. "Just happy, I guess."

"Oh, okay," Natalia rolled her eyes.

Her friend looked admonished. "Something you'd like to add, Ms. Boa Vista?"

"Nope, nothing here," the other raised her hands in defense. "It's just…" she stopped and thought better of it with a shake of her head. "Nope, Nevermind."

"What?"

"It's just nice to see you so happy, Cal." She bit her lip before continuing, "Both of you."

Calleigh tucked her file under her arm with a heavy sigh. "I'd love to know who went on record for having the last secret around here."

Natalia smiled. "Mid seventies, I think. There was a white lie that was kept under wraps for awhile back in the late eighties—but that came out eventually."

"You're funny today," the blonde laughed, heading off toward fingerprints.

Eric was staring blankly at the double computer screens waiting for print recognition when she approached him from behind. She ran fingers gingerly across the back of his neck, offering a smile when he turned around in surprise. "I have tox reports," she said enticingly, dangling the file in front of his eyes.

He reached for it and read it quickly, pleased that her fingers stayed tracing little shapes on the top on his spine. "Aspirin overdose?"

"So it would appear," she moved to the other side of the table and dropped her head into her hands. "Want to go out tonight?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Out?"

"Yeah, out. Among other adults, away from diapers and formula for a night. You and me, dinner, maybe a movie…" she moved her own eyebrows up and down. "Sounds good, huh?"

"Oh it sounds great, Cal," Eric smiled across the table. "But I can't get a sitter this last minute."

"On the contrary," Calleigh straightened and stretched her arms over her head. "Ryan's more than happy to watch the baby for the night."

Eric laughed. "How'd you get him to agree to that?"

"I told him it was part of his godfatherly duties," she shrugged and made her way back around the table. "Plus, I told him to invite Valera."

"Oh, great. Like those two don't have enough trouble stumbling all over themselves around each other—let's throw a baby into the mix."

Calleigh laughed. "Come on, it will be good for everyone."

"Luke kind of sounds like he's losing on the deal."

"On the contrary—he'll enjoy the deep slumber of a child whose father is out enjoying himself for the evening. Anyway he loves Ryan."

"He's two months old, he loves anyone who talks to him," Eric grumbled.

"Ryan happens to talk a lot," she discreetly slid her hand into his and squeezed his fingers. "You've been Super Dad for seven straight weeks; you deserve a night off."

He gave a relenting sigh. "So we're going on a date, are we?"

She grinned. "That's right."

"You know, I don't think we've ever been on a real date before."

"That thought had occurred to me."

Eric gave a tug on her arm and pulled her closer. "I'm looking forward to it," he said softly, only a breath away from meeting her lips with his.

Calleigh breathed a smile. "Pick me up at seven thirty," she whispered, pulling away before he could make another move. "And don't be late—we've got reservations."

He shook his head as he watched her sashay back to ballistics. The woman had a master's degree in playing cat and mouse.

0x0x0

Ryan crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes heavenward. "For god's sake, Eric. If you go over this one more time, you're going to be late."

"I fed him at six, you should be good for awhile," Eric continued as if he hadn't heard a word. "He'll probably be hungry again around nine but only give him half a bottle because if he eats too much before he goes to bed he'll be up all night."

"Yes, and don't go to him right away when he starts crying after he's gone to bed because he might calm himself down…you've told me this before."

"It never hurts to be thorough."

"Twice is normally considered thorough, three times is overkill. I'm not sure what new level we've descended to with you telling me these things for the fourth time."

Eric glared. "And when you change him don't use too much powder, I think it's giving him a rash. There's cream on the table—"

Ryan sighed. "And to think three months ago you were the lady killer of Miami. Yet here we stand, talking about diaper rash cream." He checked his watch. "I'm not trying to hustle you out but you really are going to be late."

"Just talk to him a lot, okay?" Eric asked, sliding into his jacket. "And read to him…he doesn't understand what you're saying but it usually calms him down."

"Don't worry about it," Ryan waved away the worry. "If he starts getting crazy, I'll just use the secret weapon."

"Are you talking about the monkey face?" Eric asked, unimpressed.

"Of course I'm talking about the monkey face. Kids love it." Quickly, Ryan blew out his cheeks, flared his nostrils and crossed his eyes in Lucas' direction. The baby gave a big smile and something that sounded like a laugh and reached his small hands toward his babysitter. "See?" he relaxed his face and shrugged. "They love it."

Eric shook his head. "I can't see why," he slipped his wallet into his back pocket. "It scares the hell out of me."

"That's jealousy talking, my swarthy friend."

"So is Valera coming over?"

"Yes, and she's bringing her porn collection along with toys with lots of tiny parts for Lucas to choke on."

"You're not funny," Eric informed him, checking over the list of emergency phone numbers again. "I think everyone's on here."

"Because as a police officer, I tend to forget the number for 911."

"We'll both have our cell phones so if you can't reach me for some reason, call her."

"Not that I'll need to, she's going to shoot you on sight if you don't leave now."

Eric checked his watch. "I'm fine, I've still got fifteen minutes."

"You're going to hit traffic."

He considered this. "Yeah, maybe."

"Not maybe, definitely. Go—we're fine."

Eric bent to the swing and unbuckled his son. "Come here, big guy," he stood and kissed the top of the baby's head. "You be good for Uncle Ryan, okay? I don't want any bad reports."

"He'll be fine," Ryan assured him, reaching for his charge. Eric reluctantly handed him over and watched as his co-worker moved the child's arm up and down. "Say 'Bye Daddy. Have a good time putting the moves on Aunt Calleigh'."

"That's cute, Wolfe."

"Hey," Ryan shrugged, "your kid's gotta dirty mind. It's not my fault."

"Have a good time with Valera—I don't want to come home to find you two necking on the couch."

Ryan made a face. "Did you just say necking? Because last time I checked," he glanced down at his watch, "it wasn't 1956, and you're officially late for your date."

"Shit," Eric leaned in and kissed the baby again. He stopped just before he reached the door. "I look okay, right?" he asked, holding out his arms. "Not like I'm trying too hard?"

"Considering you're trying to impress a woman who's seen you in a hospital gown, unconscious and bleeding from the head?" he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you look fine."

"Okay, I'm leaving," Eric pulled the door shut behind him. It opened a moment later. "I told you about the cream, right?"

"You told me about the cream."

"Okay, bye." The door opened again. "Oh, and the bottles are—"

"In the fridge," Ryan finished. "Where you showed them to me. An hour ago."

"Right. Okay, I'm definitely leaving."

"I'm locking the door behind you."

"Thanks again for doing this."

"You'll owe me one—get the hell out," Ryan pushed the door shut and locked the dead bolt behind him. He looked at Lucas. "You know, you may not believe this," he said, heading toward the arm chair. "But your dad used to be cool." Lucas' eyes widened at the sound of Ryan's voice. "I know, I know. Sounds crazy now, but trust me, your old man?" he shook his head. "The coolest."

0x0x0

"You're late," Calleigh laughed as she pulled open the door to her apartment. Eric's apology died on his lips as he took in the sight before him. Calleigh was wearing a dark blue summer dress that fell just above her knee, white high heels and a white scarf tossed over her shoulder. She laughed nervously under Eric's gaze.

"You look beautiful," he said softly.

She smiled. "You're forgiven," she pulled the door shut behind her and reached for his hand.

"So where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Dinner was at a Cuban restaurant they'd found in the Grove years ago. He'd thought Calleigh had forgotten about it—they'd discovered it with Speed and hadn't been back since he died.

"I'm glad we came here tonight," he smiled over a glass of wine.

She smiled and looked beyond him for a moment. "You remember when we'd come here with Tim? That one waiter refused to speak English with him?"

Eric laughed at the memory. "I never understood how Speed lived here for so long and never picked up any Spanish."

"I believe the term was 'outright refusal'," Calleigh shook her head. "He always was stubborn."

"You ever wonder what he'd say if he were here?"

She nodded. "I do. But he's still here, Eric." She looked around. "He's just harder to see. Sometimes you have to look."

"That's why we came back here?"

"Among other reasons," Calleigh admitted as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I figured it was time to come back. And like I said, you've been Super Dad lately—you deserve a nice night out every once in awhile."

Eric shook his head. "Cal, I've been meaning to thank you…not just for dinner…for everything."

"Eric, you don't have to keep—"

"No, I do," he cut her off. "You've been incredible…I don't know what I'd do without you."

Calleigh reached across the table and took his hand in hers. "Let's just say we're lucky to have each other, okay?"

0x0x0

Ryan answered the door with Lucas in his arms. Valera offered a sunny smile and held up a shopping bag from the deli. "I have sandwiches, potato salad, and movies."

"You're a goddess."

She shrugged and pushed past him into the apartment. "I know." She set the bag on the coffee table and began unloading their dinner.

"What movie did you bring?"

"_Princess Bride_," Valera dug it from the bottom of the bag. "It's a classic."

"And now we learn an important life lesson," Ryan began, turning the baby back to face him. "Anything created by or featuring Rob Reiner is pure, cinematic gold." He looked Lucas in the eyes for a long, serious moment. "If you learn nothing else from your Uncle Ryan, remember that."

Valera chuckled and dropped down onto the couch. "You're very good with him," she commented, tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear. "I'm surprised."

Ryan consulted with the baby for a moment. "And that comment was almost sixty percent actual compliment…I think you're getting better at that."

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. You just don't seem like the baby-liking type."

"Justifying your insults is supposed to make me feel better now?"

"I'm not justifying…I just meant that you seem like the kind of guy who would be sort of squeamish around kids."

Ryan shook his head. "Keep digging, Valera. You're going to need a ladder to get out of that hole."

"I'm sorry," she laughed. "I'll stop. Let's just leave it at I'm pleasantly surprised at how well you and Lucas are getting along." She extended her hands. "Come see me?" she asked of the baby.

Ryan handed the baby over and took the opportunity to unwrap a sandwich. "What kind did you get?"

"Oh, they're both the same. Turkey with everything—all sauces on the side." At the curious look he gave her, she shrugged. "I didn't know what you liked, so I figured you could take off what you didn't and add what you did."

"You're positively brilliant."

"You're just rolling off with the compliments there, Mr. Wolfe."

"Why yes, I am. You should take note," he took a huge bite of his sandwich.

"Mind if we throw this on?" she asked, holding up the DVD.

"Be my guest," Ryan offered, waving a hand toward the entertainment center.

"I haven't seen it since I was in high school—I'm unnecessarily excited."

He smiled. "I used to watch this with my niece every Saturday when she was a kid."

Valera gave him a strange look. "She's not a kid anymore?"

"Oh, she's thirteen now," he corrected with a roll of his eyes. "Much too cool for her parents, her grandparents, and most importantly—me."

She frowned. "Poor guy."

"No no, I'm fine. I'm healing thanks to that guy," he pointed to Lucas, "right there."

Valera hit the Play button and smiled at the baby. "Aren't you a nice guy," she cooed. "Cheering up your Uncle Ryan like that."

Ryan stood and met her half way to the TV. "Here, I'll pop him in his swing so we can eat."

They settled on the couch together as the opening credits began to roll. Valera turned her head and smiled at him. "Thanks for inviting me over tonight."

He smiled back. "Thanks for coming."

0x0x0

Eric smiled as Calleigh's fingers laced through his. "So what do you have planned next, Miss Duquesne?"

She laughed and her shoulder bumped into his as they made their way down the sidewalk. "What are your thoughts on Morgan Freeman?"

He thought for a minute. "The same as most people's—if I weren't Catholic, I would pray to him." They laughed together. "Why do you ask?"

"Double feature at the Silver Screen," she raised her eyebrows. "Want to go?"

"What are they playing?"

"_Along Came a Spider_ and _Se7en_," she answered with a smile.

"And you're actually asking if I want to go?"

"Just checking."

"Wait, wait. This isn't going to be one of those things where you tell me their playing _Along Came a Spider_ and _Se7en_ and they're actually playing _Driving Miss Daisy_ and…I don't know, _Robin Hood_, or something?"

Calleigh laughed. "Would I do that to you?"

"You've _done_ that to me, Cal."

"I have not."

"Trust me," he chuckled. "You have."

"Well this time, I assure you, my intentions are nothing but honorable and my agenda is anything but hidden." She gave him a wide eyed innocent look. "Is this the face of someone who would lie to you?"

Eric leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "Even if it was," he murmured, "you know I can't say no to you."

Calleigh pressed her lips to his for another moment before pulling away. "It's all part of my master plan."

He tightened his grip on her hand and led her back to the car.

0x0x0

Lucas watched with interest as Ryan jumped around his room, brandishing a marker as a sword. "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." He jumped so that he was facing where he'd just been standing. "Stop saying that!" he cried, changing his voice. He bounced back and continued sword fighting his invisible foe. "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." He jumped and changed his voice. "No!" Jumped again, back to Inigo Montoya. "Offer me money." Jumped back to Count Rugen. "Yes!" Inigo Montoya. "Power too! Promise that!" Back to Count Rugen. "All that I have and more! Please!" Back to Montoya. "Offer me everything I ask for." Back to Rugen in a frantic, high pitched voice. "Anything you want!" Ryan quickly moved back to his spot as Inigo Montoya and ran his sword through the imaginary Count Rugen. "I want my father back, you son of a bitch."

A slow round of applause from the doorway startled him. Valera raised an eyebrow. "This is how you put kids to sleep?"

Ryan's cheeks flamed. "I was just…I mean, he was getting fussy and sword fights are excellent mental stimuli and…"

"And you always wanted to be Inigo Montoya," she finished with a roll of her eyes.

"Well, really," Ryan sheathed his pen in his pocket. "Who didn't?"

She laughed and peered into the crib where Lucas was laying on his back, large eyes focused on the mobile. To her surprise, he gave a little yawn. "Oh my God," she said softly.

"What?"

"I think your sword fighting may have actually done the trick," she said, watching with interest as the baby's eyes began closing slowly.

"Could you try to say that without so much shock in your voice?"

"C'mon," Valera jerked her head toward the door with a whisper. "Let's let him sleep."

They reconvened on the couch, flipping through channels until Ryan found a crime drama. "Don't you get enough of this stuff at work?" Valera asked incredulously.

"No, this is so much better," he assured her. "They just make up these gadgets that give them the results they want." He read the confusion on her face. "No, really, check it out."

They watched as the DNA analyst processed five samples in the span of a thirty second montage. "Oh, c'mon! That takes hours!" Valera exclaimed.

"Oh they'll say it takes hours. But for the sake of time they have to condense it to a montage."

"I wish I had a montage machine to zip me right through my day," she grumbled with a shake of her head.

Ryan laughed, thinking that of all the dates he'd been on, this definitely wasn't the worst.

0x0x0

It was a crash of cymbals that startled Eric awake. He glanced up at the screen to see the credits of _Se7en_ rolling and turned to his right to apologize for nodding off. Calleigh, however, hadn't even woken up for the credits and was still dozing peacefully against his shoulder. He smiled and gave her a gentle nudge. "Cal," he whispered. "Movie's over."

"Mm?" her eyebrows rose first, slowly dragging the lids up with them. She sat up quickly and glanced around. "Oh my God. Did I fall asleep?"

He laughed. "Yeah, we both did."

"Oh my God," she ran a hand over her face with a laugh. "I don't even know what happened! I didn't realize I was so tired."

"Me either."

They looked at one another before erupting into another round of giggles. "So much for us still being exciting young people," Calleigh commented with a shake of her head.

"Yeah, looks like those days are gone," Eric stood and helped her to her feet. "C'mon, Grandma, I'll buy you an ice cream on the way home."

She leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You're too good to me."

It was well after one by the time they reached Eric's apartment. "I won't wake him up," Calleigh repeated, "I promise. I just want to say hi."

Eric shook his head. "You just want to see what's happening Wolfe and Valera."

"I'm naturally curious," she defended lightly. "Like you're not."

"I'm not saying anything one way or the other," he said diplomatically, turning the key in the door.

"Oh, come on!" Ryan was saying to the television. "Who can afford computers like that? Is NASA funding local county budgets now?"

Valera laughed before noticing they'd been interrupted. "Hi guys," she got to her feet quickly.

Ryan followed suit. "Hey, how was your night?"

"It was great," Calleigh commented, tilting her head toward the screen. "What are you watching?"

"Some crime show," Valera shrugged. "You should watch them some time. They process scenes in like, two minutes—tops."

She raised her eyebrows. "Must be nice to only have an hour to solve a case."

"So how was everything here?" Eric asked, tossing his jacket over the arm of the chair. "Any problems?"

"Nope, everything was great," Ryan promised, tossing a stray rattle into the baby swing. "He woke up for a little bit but pretty much put himself back to sleep."

"What time was that?"

Ryan checked his watch. "Around twelve."

Valera hijacked his wrist and turned the watch to her. "Oh, wow. It's really late. I've got to get home."

"Here," Ryan grabbed his own jacket from the chair. "Let me walk you to your car."

She smiled. "Okay. Bye guys, see you tomorrow."

They waved together as the pair showed themselves out. Calleigh noticed the smallest of winks that Eric sent Ryan's way. "I thought you weren't getting involved," she accused with a nudge to his ribs.

"The boy needs all the encouragement he can get," Eric said with a shake of his head. "I really hope they didn't just sit here and watch TV all night."

"I do," Calleigh commented with a wrinkle of her nose. "I like this couch—and I don't ever want to think about Ryan having sex."

Eric laughed. "Well don't worry; I don't think it happens very often."

"I don't care how often it happens," she squirmed. "He's like my little brother, y'know? I feel responsible for him…I don't want to think about anyone…" she wriggled her shoulders again. "Just something I'd rather not think about."

"I'm gonna go check on Lucas," he said with a laugh. "Want to come?"

"Like I'd say no to that."

He was sleeping, just as Ryan had promised. His head was turned to one side and a tiny fist pressed against his mouth. Eric smiled at his son and ran his fingers over the side of his face. "Sweet dreams, buddy," he whispered, feeling Calleigh rest her head against his shoulder.

"Now that," she whispered with a smile, "is one happy kid."

They stepped out into the hallway and Eric shut the door halfway. "We both have a pretty good reason to be happy around here," he said, his voice soft and husky.

Calleigh smiled. "Well you guys make me pretty happy too."

It started out as a gentle kiss. A simple gesture of affection—lips brushing lips. Eric was surprised then, when Calleigh wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He responded, running his tongue along the edge of her lips, waiting for her approval. She granted access and explored his mouth with her own while his hands roamed her body and she moaned against his mouth.

He pulled away, breathless after a few moments. "Calleigh, what are we…"

She silenced him with another kiss, pulling him closer and pinning herself against the wall. "What were you saying?" she breathed against his neck between kisses and nips with her teeth.

"Shouldn't we…I don't know…slow down or something?"

Calleigh stopped and looked him in the eyes. "We've had foreplay for seven years," she reminded him with a smile. "I'm sick of waiting."

Eric met her mouth with his again and scooped her up, smiling as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He closed the door to his room and laid her down on the bed. Calleigh had a point, he realized with a smile. And they had all night…

* * *

AN: Okay, I know that took forever. But…well, I have no excuses. I couldn't decide where this fic was going and it didn't want to budge. But now I have and I have the next few chapters planned out so lucky, lucky you! Ryan's theatrical performance is brought to you by The Princess Bride. Hope you enjoyed. R/R?


	9. Chapter Eight

AN: You guys completely brighten my day. And since my days are spent cleaning hotel rooms for the masses, it's not an easy thing to do. The first part of this chapter is for Lemon Green who requested a morning after scene…with my own demented twist. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

_Still June_

The next morning dawned cloudlessly beautiful, sunny and mild. Ryan and Eric had gotten a callout to Bal Harbor almost the moment they'd walked through the doors of CSI.

"Are you okay?" Ryan asked as they unloaded themselves from the Hummer.

"Yeah," Eric shrugged, unable to keep the corners of his mouth down. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No, no reason," Ryan shook his head. "You just seem to be…y'know…really happy."

His partner looked to the azure sky and moved his shoulders again as they approached the crime scene. "It's a beautiful day in Miami, what's not to be happy about?"

"Try multiple stab wounds," Alexx commented from the flank of their flayed victim. "This guy was sliced and diced while he was making eggs," she pointed to the makings of an omelet on the blood spattered counter and smoothed back the victim's glossy brown hair. "Not what you ordered for breakfast, was it sweetheart?"

Eric smiled and began his collection of evidence. "Any sign of the murder weapon, Alexx?"

"I haven't seen anything," she looked up and smiled. "But that's your job, baby—not mine."

"Hey, Alexx, doesn't Delko seem particularly chipper today?" Ryan commented, raising the camera to his face and snapping a few shots of the stab pattern.

Alexx examined him as he moved around the room, she could have sworn she heard him humming. "He does," she agreed after a moment.

"I thought so too."

It was awhile later when they were packing up the evidence that Ryan broached the topic again. "So I was thinking…"

"Don't hurt yourself," Eric muttered under his breath.

"Usually a guy cut to ribbons before breakfast tends to dampen a mood…your sails are still full. What's going on?"

Eric shut the trunk door with a smile. "Just woke up on the right side of the bed today, that's all. You ever do that? You wake up and things are just…better?" He looked around, almost giddy. "Everything looks better, feels better, tastes better…life just kind of makes sense?"

Ryan's jaw fell to the ground. "You and Calleigh had sex, didn't you?"

Eric said nothing and opened the driver's side door. "Wolfe, c'mon," he looked offended. "A gentleman never reveals…"

Suddenly Eric's good mood was contagious. "That's wonderful!" Ryan exclaimed. "Congratulations."

"Hey, hey, hey, just so we're clear—I didn't _say_ anything."

"You _didn't_ say anything," Ryan assured him. "But really, man, anyone who looks at you is going to know something's up." He was visibly struck with a thought. "What day is it?"

Eric's brow furrowed. "Friday?"

"No, the date."

"Oh," he consulted his watch. "It's the nineteenth."

Ryan's eyes rolled up in his head in contemplation for a few long moments before he let out another chuckle. "It's the nineteenth?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's fantastic."

"Why is that fantastic?"

"Oh, no reason," he said quickly with a dismissive shake of his head.

"I'm in a great mood, Wolfe, you might want to try my favor now instead of later," Eric warned, sensing classic Ryan folly at hand.

"I shouldn't celebrate too soon," he said fumbling nervously with his fingers. "I'd have to check the sheet but…"

"But…?"

"I think you guys might have just won me about three hundred dollars," he instinctively lowered his head in shame.

"We did _what?!_"

"I don't know, but I think I guessed right on the pool."

"The pool?"

Ryan gave a defeated sigh. "All right, I'll tell you. But you didn't hear it from me—got it?"

"I'm not promising anything. What pool?"

"Remember that day the power went out and the generators were running overtime and it was taking a million years to get anything processed?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, a few of the lab techs were sitting around placing bets on when certain things were going to happen—you know, natural disasters, celebrity divorces…shit like that."

"Uh huh…"

"And I had this idea that it would be more fun to bet on people and things we actually knew…and…well…you and Calleigh made the list."

Eric's jaw set into a hard line. "Are you…I don't know…retarded in some way I haven't noticed yet? Don't you learn from your mistakes?"

"This isn't like the Death Pool!" he exclaimed. "Everyone paid in twenty bucks, tops."

"Oh really—and you're the winner?"

"For that particular bracket, yes, I think so."

They were quiet for a minute before Eric's frown melted into an amused smirk. "You know, Wolfe, I think you may just have a gambling problem."

"I've considered the possibility."

"And you know that Calleigh'll kill you if she ever finds out."

"I've considered that too…you're not going to tell her, are you?"

Eric considered this. "Two things."

"Anything."

"One: never bet on my personal life ever again."

"Done."  
"And two: make a move with Valera. You guys are driving me crazy."

Ryan smiled. "I'm laying the foundation. These things take time."

"Oh, and I added a third thing."

"What?"

"You owe me a year of free babysitting."

Ryan's jaw unhinged. "A year?"

"Have you seen Calleigh's weapons cabinet? You should be lucky I'm only asking for a year and not five."

"Fine, fine. I'm on call for the next twelve months."

They stopped at a red light; Eric tossed over his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you," he smiled as they shook on it.

0x0x0

_July_

0x0x0

The music coming from the house could be heard from down the block, on every surface were tied clusters of balloons in bright colors, the smell of Cuban food reached the noses of everyone in three-block radius and everywhere you looked, people were gathered. Neighbors, friends, family, co-workers…everyone was talking, laughing, dancing, enjoying the afternoon.

"_Aniversario Feliz, Chlorinda y Pavel" _a homemade banner proclaimed from its place above the fireplace. Clustered on end tables and scattered throughout the house were pictures—varying in color and quality—of Chlorinda and Pavel Delko, taken over the last forty years.

Calleigh stopped at the large, sepia tinted framed wedding photo featured on the mantle. Eric's mother was dressed simply in a long white dress, a hibiscus flower tucked into her long, dark hair; his father looked proud and stately in his military uniform, though with a hint of boyishness that had long since vanished. Calleigh smiled—she'd always known Chlorinda was a beautiful woman, but these pictures really drove the idea home. Her smile lit up every frame as she posed with her husband, her children, her brothers and sisters. The wedding picture was her favorite though, because it wasn't just the dress and the flowers that enhanced her beauty, it was the adoring way she and Pavel were looking at each other—like there was no else in the world.

"Hey, there you are," Eric's voice startled her. She turned to see him standing in the doorway, breathing heavily, a thin layer of sweat glistening at his hairline.

"Sorry I'm late," she said with a glance at the clock. Her brow furrowed. "What were you doing?"

"Dancing," he shrugged, crossing the room to greet her with a kiss. "Everything okay at work?"

"Oh, yeah," she waved a hand. "It's all taken care of. So," she looked up coyly, "who were you dancing with?"

"You really want to know?"

"Uh-huh," Calleigh nodded resolutely. "I want to know who my competition is."

Eric pulled a face. "I don't know, Cal…she's a pretty stiff contender."

"A real looker, huh?"

"Oh yeah—until you got here I'd say she was the best looking woman here."

"Guess I'd better be on my toes then," she raised her eyebrows as Eric leaned in for another kiss.

"Eric, there you—" Chlorinda's voice interrupted them. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized quickly, turning to duck out of the room.

"_Mama_," Eric spun quickly and dragged Calleigh with him to the doorway. "I was just looking for Calleigh."

"Yes, I see you found her," his mother raised an eyebrow at the pair before leaning in and dropping a kiss onto each of Calleigh's burning cheeks. "I'm glad you could make it, Calleigh."

"Thank you for inviting me," she reached into her large purse and produced the bottle of wine she'd brought. "I wasn't sure what to get you, so I figured you could always enjoy this whenever you wanted to. Happy anniversary."

"Oh, thank you!" Chlorinda accepted the wine and offered another hug in return. She turned her attention back to her son. "You'll be dancing with her now, I suppose?"

"C'mon, _Mama_," Eric smiled down at her, "you know there's always room for you on my dance card."

The older woman patted her son's cheek. "Such a charmer," she commented, making Calleigh giggle. "Did you eat something?"

"No," she admitted, realizing how hungry she was. "I just got here."

"Eric, feed her," Chlorinda commanded with a point of a finger.

"Crack that whip, _Mama_," Eric rolled his eyes and took Calleigh by the hand again. "C'mon, Cal. Let's get you something to eat."

"Where's Lucas?" Calleigh asked as she loaded her plate with all of her favorites.

Eric rolled his eyes. "I haven't seen him for hours. Tessa had him, the last I saw."

She laughed. "You're not even remotely concerned?"

He shrugged. "These are people who believe firmly in the notion that it takes a village to raise a child—I've known most of them my whole life."

She looked around the backyard—between it and who she'd seen inside the house there had to be almost a hundred people here. "So this is your village?"

He smiled. "Mine, Izza's, Mari's, Tessa's…we all shared the same village."

"That's so sweet," she commented softly. "All these people helping each other out like that."

"They're good people," he agreed with a nod. "Come on, if we move now I think we might actually get a place to sit down."

They wormed their way onto the coveted back patio swing and ate quietly for a few moments before Eric's oldest niece, fourteen year-old Olivia came over to them, clutching a disgruntled looking Lucas. "Can you take him please?"

"Sure," Eric reached for his son. "Everything okay?" he asked, noticing she didn't look too happy either.

"Yeah, everything's fine. If you see my mom, tell her I'll be _not _wearing a dress to church tomorrow and that if she wants to fight about it some more, I'm upstairs."

Eric laughed at the attitude he was being thrown. "Why don't you want to wear a dress?" he asked, knowing he should just stay out of it.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Because it's like, not the dark ages anymore? She's all 'All the girls wear dresses to church in Cuba.' And I'm all 'Ma, this isn't Cuba!' and she's all 'It is if I say it is.'"

Calleigh couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips. "I think I'm going to go get something to drink," she stood and motioned for the distressed teenager to take her seat. "You guys continue this."

"Hey, Cal," Eric glanced up hopefully. "I just noticed the time, I don't think he's been fed…would you mind?" he held Lucas out to her with puppy dog eyes.

She laughed. "I can't deal with two set of those!" she exclaimed, taking the baby into her arms with a relenting sigh. "Where's the diaper bag?"

"By the door, I think."

"I'll be back."

"Thank you," he called to her retreating back as Olivia continued her tirade against her mother.

The diaper bag was not where Eric had left it and Lucas had begun wailing by the time Calleigh was able to find it. "Shh, shh…dinner's coming," she promised softly, swaying back and forth in the kitchen while the bottle heated up. "Dinner's coming…no tears." Juggling the whimpering child into one arm, Calleigh opened the microwave with her free hand, screwed on the lid, and shook up the formula. "See?" she showed it to him before dropping down into a nearby chair and working the bottle between his lips. "All better," Calleigh murmured with a smile as Lucas wrapped a hand around two of her fingers.

"You're very good with him," Chlorinda's voice caused her to jump and turn around.

She gave a modest smile. "Oh, it's more like he's good with me, really," she shook her head.

"Still," Eric's mother pulled the chair out next to her and sat down, smiling affectionately at her grandson. "It's amazing how easy it comes, isn't it?"

"What's that?"

"Loving a child," she said quietly. "You find out they're coming and you think 'nothing's going to change—I'll be fine.' And then they arrive and before you know it, your whole definition of happiness has changed." She reached out to stroke the baby's curls. "All because this tiny little person looked at you or smiled at you or held your finger…" she shook her head with a nostalgic sigh. "Amazing."

Calleigh smiled to herself, silently agreeing with a slow nod of her head. It was amazing. "Make you homesick for the days when you had babies of your own?" she asked lightly.

"Oh, no no," Chlorinda smiled, her dark eyes crinkling at the sides. "Being _Abuela_ is God's reward for not killing my own children." They sat in friendly silence for awhile while Lucas sucked merrily at his bottle. "You know, I always worry about Eric," she said suddenly after a few long moments. "He's my baby," she shrugged to herself. "Of course I worry about him."

"It makes sense," Calleigh reassured her.

"He always seemed so…I don't know," she shook her head, "lonely, I think. Always going from one girl to the next, all that partying…" absently she crossed herself. "Kept me up more nights than I'd like to remember, asking all kinds of special prayers from _Santa Maria_." Her eyes fell on the baby again. "And when I found out about this little blessing—_Dios mio_ how I prayed. But he's really surprised me."

"He's a great dad," Calleigh commented, echoing a prediction she'd made awhile ago.

Chlorinda nodded proudly and pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully. "You surprised me too," she added softly.

Calleigh looked up, surprised. "Me?"

"Eric had kind of hinted that the two of you were together," she explained. "And I'll admit, I was excited—I've always liked you, Calleigh—but then, when he told me about that woman and this baby I just, well, I just assumed that was the end of you and him." She looked down at her hand. "It was unfair to think that you'd run away just because circumstances changed."

"I thought about it," Calleigh said truthfully. "And we did sort of take a break for awhile but…" she shrugged. "I don't know. Like you said, circumstances changed—I guess the feelings didn't."

Chlorinda smiled knowingly. "Love's funny like that, isn't it?"

Love. At the sound of that pesky four letter word, Calleigh felt her eyes widen. Was that why she had stayed? Was all of this the result of love? She'd never been in love—or if she had, she hadn't admitted it. She looked down into Lucas' wide chocolate eyes. She knew she loved him, it was impossible not to. But even that was new—children were never her thing. What was it about Eric's child that changed all that?

When she looked up, Chlorinda was still smiling at her. The older woman stood and pressed a motherly kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad you're here, _querida._" With that, she left Calleigh alone to deal with her revelation.

0x0x0

It had been two weeks since Ryan had bartered for his safety from Calleigh and promised to make a move on Valera. Fourteen agonizing days spent running over all the possible ways she was going to reject him. He couldn't deal with it anymore. He was just going to have to come clean to Calleigh, accept the bullet she would swiftly deliver, and try to heal from there. Cops got shot all the time, he reasoned, they recovered just fine. And Calleigh wouldn't shoot him anywhere fatal…she liked him too much. All in all, it seemed like a much braver plan than having anything to do with Maxine Valera.

"Ryan," Natalia interrupted his thought process with a small cough.

"Yeah, I'm here," he shook his head and met her confused eyes. "What's up?"

"Are we waiting for the evidence to evolve and grow legs and _walk _its way into the Hummer?"

Ryan looked down, surprised to see that everything had been collected and boxed. "Oh, yeah, hey…cool." When had that happened? "Want some help with those?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, just a bit." They loaded up and climbed into the vehicle, driving slowly away from the double homicide. "You should just talk to her," Natalia said suddenly, causing Ryan to nearly swerve into oncoming traffic.

"What? Talk to who? What would we talk about?"

"Maxine," she said slowly, trying not to incur a knee-jerk response again. "You should talk to her."

"We talk!" he exclaimed, his voice high and dangerously close to squeaking. "We talk all the time! Just today, actually, before we left for the callout I said 'Hey Valera' and she said 'Hey Ryan, anything for me to process?' and I said 'Yeah, how's the Hamilton case coming?' and she said—"

"Ryan!" Natalia cut him off. "I get it. You talk. And you know that's not what I meant."

"I don't know what to say," he said quietly. "She makes me nervous."

His companion smiled sympathetically. "You know," she began, an idea blossoming in her head. "There was a time when I made you nervous…"

Ryan blanched. "Well, Natalia….I….I mean…you're still very beautiful and…courageous and…"

"At ease, soldier," she rolled her eyes. "I just like to hear it every now and then. And anyway," she smiled, "that's not what I meant."

"Oh," he visibly relaxed. "What did you mean?"

"I meant that you used to have a crush on me, too. And you asked me out just fine. How'd you do that?"

"I asked Delko if it was okay."

Her sympathetic smile faded. "Oh."

"Yeah. Not really the same scenario."  
"No, not really."

They drove the rest of the way in contemplative silence. Upon reaching CSI, Natalia sorted through the evidence and handed the swabs and hair to Ryan. "Run these over to DNA," she suggested with a bright smile.

"It's on your way to firearms," he reminded.

"It's not my girlfriend," she countered.

"It's not my girlfriend either!"  
"Be a man," she commanded. "Go to DNA."

He sighed and took the samples. "Fine, I'll go. But if I get rejected and have to transfer to the night shift because she's been here longer, I don't want to hear any bitching."

Natalia laughed. "Don't come back without a date…" her smile faded as Horatio entered the lab and offered the two of them a strange look. "…of origin…for that…stuff," she stumbled.

Horatio cocked his head to one side and stared at them for a long moment before heading over to interrogation. "Nice save, Nat," Ryan quipped with a roll of his eyes. "I'll be sure to not come back without a date of origin for our blood sample."

"I mean it!" she called to his retreating back.

Valera was poised over her favorite microscope when he entered the DNA lab. She brightened when she noticed it was him. "Hey! The Hamilton case file is right over there."

"Oh, good," he picked it up. "Thank you. Here's a few more from the double Natalia and I just got back from."

"Double?" her normally large eyes widened further. "What is it with the summertime?" she commented lightly, dropping them into her inbox. "Seems to bring out the murderer in everyone."

"It's the heat," Ryan suggested, feeling his palms begin to sweat. "Makes people go crazy."

"Well I know what you mean," she fanned herself. "The air in my apartment has been out for a week—if my landlord doesn't watch it, he's going to find himself dead with about thirty floors of suspects."

They laughed for a moment before Ryan sobered. "Valera?" he began, courage mounting. He would be smooth and suave and Delko-esque and he would not fall flat on his face.

"Yes?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Damnit! Why did she have to do that? "Do you…uh…"

"Do I…?"

"Do you like…food?"

Delko would never let him live this down. He'd have to get a new job. Forget transferring to the night shift. His career as a Miami-Dade CSI was over. He'd have to move. But where? Vermont was supposed to be nice this time of year…

"Do I like food?" Valera repeated, her eyes squinting together in confusion. "Yeah…" a small smile tugged at her lips. "I've been known to enjoy food on a few occasions."

He nodded. No point in leaving the job half finished. He'd blurt it out, she'd laugh hysterically, and he'd be shopping for condos in Montpelier by the end of the afternoon. "I was just thinking that…since you like food and…well I like food too…I was thinking maybe we could eat some. Together. Maybe Friday night?"

Valera's smile grew by half. "This Friday?" she asked, taking him off guard.

"Yeah, if you're not…you know, busy or something."

"Sounds great," she tucked her hair behind her ear again. "What kind of food do you have in mind?"

"What are your thoughts on Thai?"

"I like Thai," Valera nodded. "There's a new place I've been dying to try, it's right on the beach."

"Let's go there!"

"Okay!" she giggled.

"Okay," Ryan felt his chest lighten considerably. "So Friday night…it's a date?"

"It's definitely a date," she gave an affirmative nod. They looked at each other for a few moments. "I guess I'd better get back to work," she said finally, motioning to the lab.

"Right. Yeah, work. Get back to that…I'll talk to you later," he smiled as he backed out of the lab. As soon as he'd turned the corner, Ryan raised both fists triumphantly in the air. "I rule," he said aloud to himself.

"She say yes, Mr. Wolfe?" Horatio asked conversationally as he walked past.

Ryan dropped his arms and spun around. "It's the case I'm working on, H," he called after him. "The evidence is…uh…it's really good."

"I'm sure it is," Horatio called back, a smile evident in his voice.

0x0x0

Calleigh leaned back and felt Eric's chest against her shoulder blades. She sighed contentedly and allowed him to comb his fingers through her hair. In front of them, the waves crashed against the shoreline, the ocean black in the moonlight.

"I love the beach at night," she said lazily running her fingers over the sand.

Eric leaned forward and kissed her temple. "I love you," he whispered, punctuating the thought with another kiss by her ear.

Her breath caught in her throat; she turned around to face him. "I love you too," she said softly. She caught the look of surprise that flashed through his eyes before he brought his lips to hers again.

In truth, it had shocked her too. But once she'd said it aloud, Calleigh realized nothing had ever been truer.

* * *

AN: All right, kind of another filler, but we got a little Delko family time (the concept of which I'm in love with) and some RaVe action happening, and of course, big Calleigh confession time. Hope you enjoyed! Reviews are always appreciated.


	10. Chapter Nine

AN: Welcome to my two-part plot device. Sit back, enjoy the appetizer and anxiously await the second course. Ps: the only reason I split this up was because I thought part two really deserved its own chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

_August_

_(part one)_

The morning sunlight was streaming through the curtains and fell across Calleigh's eyes. Emitting a tiny groan of disappointment, she squinted and rolled to her side, peeling her eyes apart slowly. She was surprised to find Eric already awake, propped up on an elbow, watching her with a small smile.

"Good morning," she muttered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Morning, sleepy head," Eric brushed a few strands of blonde out of her face.

"What time is it?" she asked, trying to peer over his shoulder at the clock.

"It's still early," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her jaw.

"Mmm," Calleigh's eyes closed again as Eric worked his way down her neck, rolling on top of her. "Early enough for breakfast?"

Eric stopped and pulled away. "Breakfast?"

She smiled, her cheeks darkening a shade rosier. "I'm hungry…"

"I'm hungry too," he agreed, making her giggle as he resumed his trail of kisses down across her collarbone, sliding the straps of her camisole down.

He stopped again at the sound of a cell phone vibrating on the nightstand. "Sunday!" Calleigh reminded impatiently as he reached for it.

"On call," he groaned in disappointment, flipping the phone open without checking the display. "Delko," he said gruffly. Calleigh watched with interest as his expression changed. "CSI Eric Delko," he repeated, his brow knit together in confusion. "Who is this?" His eyes widened considerably and his mouth dropped open a fraction. "Carlene Duquesne?"

Calleigh felt her eyes grow to the size of saucers; instinctively, she rolled out from under him and gathered the blankets around her. She grabbed the remaining cell phone on the night stand and flipped it open. Sure enough, there was Eric's wallpaper—a picture of Lucas. She grimaced as he offered her the phone, a deeply apologetic look on his face. "You grabbed the wrong phone," she said quietly, holding her thumb over the mouthpiece.

"Yeah, Cal, I kind of figured that out."

"Did you specifically tell her I was here?"

He rolled his eyes. "What other excuse could I give for having your cell phone at seven thirty in the morning?"

"I can hear ya'll through the phone, you know!" Carlene's deep twang bellowed from between them. "Calleigh Jo you'd best pick up this phone and explain yourself."

She rolled her eyes at the smirk that appeared on Eric's face and put the phone to her ear, preparing for the worst. "Good morning, Mama."

"It certainly sounds that way, young lady. Who was that charming gentleman I just spoke to?"

Calleigh sighed and shoved her hair away from her face. "He's my uh...my partner," she decided, figuring that much was true.

"Oh, your partner," Carlene's voice had that irritating all-knowing smile behind it. "That's what they're calling it these days? Let me guess—all night stake out?"

She rolled her eyes. "Something like that."

"Well I certainly hope ya'll used protection…although maybe I should stop preaching that—with your history I might never get to—"

"Mama!" Calleigh exclaimed, cutting her mother off. "Did you just call to harass me or is there actually something I can do for you?"

"I did call for a reason," Carlene remembered. "But the harassment—that's just one of the perks of motherhood, baby girl."

At that moment, Lucas decided to wake up, totally shattering any chance they might have had of salvaging their morning together. Eric sighed and ran his hands over his face. "I'll go deal with that," he said, squeezing her hand supportively as he walked past on his way out the door.

"Is that a baby?" Carlene exclaimed. "Is there a baby in your apartment at seven thirty in the morning?"

"Yes, Mama, that's a baby; no, he's not at my apartment," Calleigh sighed, wishing—not for the first time—that she'd been given up for adoption, sold into slavery, gifted to the crazy Cajun gypsy ladies…anything that would mean this woman wasn't her mother.

"Duke!" she heard her yelling away from the phone. "She's finally done it! Calleigh's gone and had a baby without telling us! How do you like that?"

"She what?" Calleigh heard her father's distinctive voice nearing the phone.

"Daddy?" Her face contorted. "What is Daddy doing there?"

"That is none of your business. What are you doing having babies without telling your parents?"

"She couldn't have had a baby!" Kenwall was exclaiming in the background. "I just saw her a few months ago—she didn't look pregnant to me."

"That doesn't mean anything!" Carlene argued. "This child could be months old—we'd have no idea!"

"Calleigh wouldn't do that."

"Maybe not to you!" Carlene exclaimed. "You always were her favorite."

Calleigh covered her face with her hands. If the two of them had been anyone else's parents, she might have laughed. As it was, she let out a sound of frustration. "Mama!" she yelled, trying to break up the argument through the phone. "He's not my baby! He's Eric's son!"

Eric popped his head into the room, Lucas still wailing in his arms. "What are you screaming about?" he asked, over the baby's cries.

Calleigh threw up her hands; her parent's spat was still going strong over the phone. "I have no idea," she admitted honestly.

"Well, could you keep it down until you find out?" he motioned to the screaming child in his arms. "He's freaking out."

"I'm sorry," she sighed.

"Calleigh, are you there?"

She stuck the phone back to her ear. "Sadly, yes. I'm still here."

"What were you saying about this baby? I couldn't hear you."

She rolled her eyes again. "He's not my baby," she repeated calmly. "He's Eric's son, Lucas, and he's four months old."

"Well if Eric has a four month old baby, what in the hell are you doing over there this early in the morning? Where is the child's mother?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Mama," Calleigh admitted, figuring the whole truth would be better all at once. "She's not in the picture, Eric and I are together and yes, there is a baby involved. There, now you have all the information," she gave a resigned sigh. "Do with it what you will."

"So you and Eric are involved," she repeated slowly.

"Eric?" Kenwall asked from the background. "I've met him—nice young man. Cuban, I think, tried to help me out on a case a while back. As I recall he wasn't fond of that Hagen fella either…"

"Duke, for Christ's sake, I don't need his whole damn life story!" Carlene cried, causing Calleigh to let out a defeated chuckle. "Wait a minute, you and Eric are together, he's got a baby and you're living there?"

"No, Mama. I'm not living here."

"But you're raising this baby with him?"

"No," she argued, though she couldn't really deny the truth of that statement. "I'm just…I don't know…I'm helping, I guess. He's a single dad—he needs all the help he can get."

"Mm hmm."

"I don't know what I'm arguing with you for," she sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm sure by the end of the day all of Darnell will be listenin' to whatever version of this story you feel like givin' to 'em," Calleigh said, feeling her accent thicken with her frustration.

"You just be careful, darlin', you know what I always say," Carlene warned.

_Too much, _Calleigh would have countered if her resolve hadn't already been broken long ago. "What's that, Mama?"

"Ain't nobody gonna buy a cow when they can get the milk for free."

"And now you're comparing me to a cow," Calleigh said, no longer bothering to hide her irritation. "And you wonder why I don't come home more often. Now what, Mama," she ground the word through her teeth, "did you call me for?"

"Oh, that, right. Your Daddy and I are getting remarried. We want you to come home for the wedding."

Calleigh nearly dropped the phone. "You're what?" she cried.

"Gettin' hitched," Carlene reiterated. "Tyin' the knot, ropin' and saddlin' the old stallion—"

"Okay," she interrupted at her mother's casual use of the word 'stallion'. "When did this happen?"

"Probably around the time you decided to have a baby without telling us."

"Mama…"

"Doesn't feel so nice to be kept in the dark, does it?" Carlene chuckled. "I don't know, sweetie," her voice took on a nostalgic happiness Calleigh hadn't heard in an incredibly long time. "He moved back into town a few months ago, we'd been spending a lot of time together and…well…it just sort of happened."

Calleigh wasn't convinced. It had 'just sort of happened' before…and it never ended well. "It seems kind of sudden."

"Sudden?" she laughed. "Honey, he's been the only man in my life for almost thirty-five years! How much more times does a person need?"

"Are you sure about this? Do you have to go and get remarried—why not just live together for awhile?"

"In sin? Like your brother Jackson and that…what's her name?"

She sighed. "Denise, Mama. And she's the mother of three of your grandchildren. You'd think you could be bothered to remember her name."

"I'll remember her name when that wayward son of mine puts a ring on her finger. No," her voice returned to its earlier breeziness. "We're getting remarried—we love each other, Calleigh, there's no reason why we shouldn't be together. I thought you'd be happy."

"I am," she lied quickly, raking a hand through her hair. "I am happy. When is the blessed event?"

"Two Saturdays from now, we're just having it here at the house. Friends and family—Owen's flying in from Nashville with Penny and the kids, Jackson will be here already, of course. That just leaves you, what day can we expect the two of you?"

She blinked. "The two of us?"

"Well you'll bring Eric, of course," she said as if that settled everything. "What better chance for him to meet everyone?"

"I don't know, Mama…he might have to work."

"Well see that he doesn't," Carlene said firmly. "Or I'll just come down there myself and drop in on ya'll one morning."

"Two Saturdays from now…that's the twenty-third?" Calleigh asked, evading the threat. "I'll talk to Horatio about it tomorrow morning, first thing."

"Good," a smile developed in her voice. "Looking forward to seeing you, baby girl. Bye bye."

Calleigh hung up the phone and fell back into the pillows. She grabbed the nearest one and pressed it firmly to her face, effectively muffling her scream of aggravation.

0x0x0

"Please say you can't spare me," Calleigh muttered under her breath as she made her way toward Horatio's office. It was not, as she'd promised her mother, first thing in the morning but rather the dead end of the day. She told herself she just hadn't gotten a chance to have a minute alone with her boss, but she knew that was a lie. Horatio had always made time to talk to her, about anything, regardless of what was going on. She'd just been avoiding this conversation because she'd been mentally avoiding the idea all day. "Just say it's completely out of the question," she pleaded to herself. "There might be a massacre…oooh, a massacre sounds good. A plane crash or a bus shooting or…" Calleigh stopped and shook her head. "I'm praying for random acts of extreme violence to avoid seeing my family," she said incredulously. "That's lovely."

She had reached Horatio's closed door much sooner than she'd intended. She took a deep breath and gave a gentle knock.

"Come in!" he called from within. He glanced up quickly from his paperwork, double-taking into a smile. "Hi."

She smiled back. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Fine," he shuffled his papers and motioned to the chairs before him. "Have a seat?"

"Oh, no, I'm only just popping in to ask a favor," she took another deep breath. "A favor that you should feel completely un-pressured to oblige, by the way. It's absolutely not a necessity at all in any way, shape or form."

His eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile. "Calleigh…what is it?"

She gave a defeated sigh. "My parents."

"Everything okay?"

"They're getting married…again, the Saturday after next. And they need me to come home. It would only be for the weekend, I swear to you I would leave Friday after work and be back Sunday night. I'm just…sort of…requesting that I not be on call that particular weekend?" She waited only moments for a response before rushing on. "But like I said, if you can't spare me, you can't spare me. You know my work comes first and I wouldn't even ask, but it's just—"

"Calleigh," Horatio held up a hand. "Family always comes first. You haven't taken either a vacation day in two years…I think you're entitled to a weekend every now and then."

"Trust me," she said with a shake of her head. "It's not going to be a vacation."

His smile returned. "It's not a problem at all, ma'am. You take the weekend and enjoy yourself."

"Thank you, Horatio," she breathed a smile of relief.

"You heading home?" he asked, shuffling his papers to make a note for himself.

"Just finishing up some paperwork," Calleigh shrugged conversationally, heading toward the door.

"You know, Eric's been working extra hard lately," Horatio said, almost to himself. "I think I'll give him that weekend off too."

Calleigh stopped at the door and turned back, a blush crawling to her cheeks. "How long have you known?" she asked quietly.

He did not raise his eyes from his papers but for a moment. "Since before either of you did."

She sighed. "There really is no such thing as a secret around here."

"That's right…"

0x0x0

Calleigh watched anxiously as Eric tossed his suitcase into the trunk of the car. "Eric," she tugged on her pinky. "Are you _sure _you want to do this?"

He glanced over with a smile. "Of course I'm sure."

"I have to be there—they're my parents. You have the ability to just walk away from all this before anything gets started, I'll explain everything, you won't even have to deal with the angry glares."

"Right, and live in fear that your mother's going to come swooping down on us every time there's a knock at the door?" he chuckled and shut the trunk. "No thanks."

"She wouldn't do that," Calleigh promised. "She hates to fly—that's just her threat."

"Pretty effective threat," he commented with a shake of his head. He stopped just before getting into the car. "Unless you really don't want me to go…"

She sighed. "It's not that, I swear. I just…" she pushed her hair away from her face. "I just know my family. They're a lot to take in…especially all at once."

"Cal, you're talking to me, here. Have you seen my family?"

"That's different. Your family likes each other."

"Not all the time."

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

Eric came around to her side of the car and clasped his hands at the small of her back. "I do know what you mean," he said softly. "And I also know that underneath all of that rock-hard Calleigh Duquesne front you're putting up, there's a little piece of you that doesn't want to do this alone."

"But I _can_," she protested gently as he leaned his forehead against hers and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Of course you can," he agreed easily. "You're Calleigh—you can do anything. But you don't _want_ to, do you?"

She sighed and dropped her eyes. "No."

Eric tilted her chin up to meet her eyes with his. "Then what are we waiting for? We've got a wedding to get to."

_TBC_

* * *

AN: Mmm…Southern relatives are God's gift to author's everywhere. Carlene is based almost entirely on a woman we call "Trude." I am eternally grateful for all the premature gray hairs she inspires—they're worth it for the material she gives me. Hope you liked, please stick with me while I take ya'll down this road. Just remember, everything I do has a reason. If you're that curious, PM me, I love fanfic friendship.


	11. Chapter Ten

AN: Thank you for the love and friendships! Enjoy part two!

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

_August_

_(part-two)_

"_Ladies and gentlemen, we will now begin our final descent—"_

"Into Hell," Calleigh muttered under her breath. Eric chuckled as the pilot continued.

"_—please fasten your seatbelts and make sure all seats and tray tables are in their full upright, and locked positions. We hope you have a wonderful evening and thank you, once again, for choosing Delta Airlines."_

Eric reached over and took one of Calleigh's fidgeting hands in his. "I'm fine," she said, caught off guard.

He shrugged. "Then hold my hand—I hate the final descent."

She rolled her eyes, secretly grateful for the feeling of his hand around hers. "You girl."

"You doing okay?" he asked, testing the waters. She'd been reserved and snippy the whole flight, hands and legs twitching anxiously, flipping through her magazine with such force she nearly ripped the pages out.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm fine."

"Anything you want to prep me on before we land?" he prompted, trying a second time.

"Aside from another warning that you're going into the snake pit?" she shook her head. "Nothing I can think of."

Eric rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Cal, everyone always thinks their family is terrible—it's human nature."

"You don't."

"Sometimes I do."

"Well you don't mean it," she huffed immaturely.

He brought their entwined fingers to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. "Easy, girl. It's only two nights, then we'll be back in Miami."

She sighed apologetically and squeezed his hand. "I miss Lucas."

"Calleigh, we dropped him off three hours ago. I don't even miss him yet."

She shrugged. "We've bonded—what can I say?"

Eric smiled. "I'm going to call as soon as we land."

"We could have brought him," Calleigh reminded for the millionth time. "He's a good ice breaker."

He looked amused. "It's a little much to explain all at once, isn't it? 'Mom, Dad, here's my boyfriend…and here's his baby.'"

Calleigh blinked. "My boyfriend?" she mused aloud, trying it out. It wasn't a word she used very often.

"Or…whatever," Eric corrected himself, sensing her tense up.

"No, no," she shook away his concern. "It's not that…it's just…that word. It seems so…not us."

"What would you call me then," he asked, teasingly. "Your man-friend?" She giggled so he continued. "Boy toy? Cheap thrill?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Your sexy, Latin lover?"

Calleigh raised an eyebrow. "Think highly of yourself, do you?"

"Hey, if the shoe fits…"

She laughed. "Yes, I think that's it. That's how I'm going to introduce you to my whole family. 'This is my sexy, Latin lover—Eric.'"

"Sounds good to me."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure it does."

"But seriously, you don't ever think about titles?" he asked, adjusting his seatbelt as the flight attendant walked past.

She shrugged. "I don't know," she said honestly. "You're just…" she stopped and looked away.

"What?" he nudged her. "I'm just what?"

"You're just my Eric," her shoulders moved up shyly as a light blush took hold of her cheeks.

He leaned over and kissed her. "I'm okay with that."

0x0x0

He wasn't expecting the Duquesne home to strike him the way it had. He'd just hung up the phone after passing it back and forth to Calleigh while they listened to Lucas babble happily to the both of them from his mother's house. Not paying attention to the gravel road Calleigh had turned onto, the house took him by surprise as it emerged through the trees.

For one thing, it was enormous. An old plantation house, it was set far back from the main road, weathered white with black shutters, surrounded by magnolia trees, a sprawling porch and manicured yard with a well-tended garden out front and along the sides where he could see.

"Well," Calleigh put the rental in park and sat back in her seat, looking thoughtfully from her house to Eric and back again. "This is it."

"Wow," he managed, blinking a few times. "It's really nice."

She scoffed and unbuckled her seatbelt. "You say that now." Her eyes fell to the crowded driveway and the lights on inside the house. "I think we're the last ones here," she said quietly, pushing her hair away from her face.

"Good," he nodded, trying to keep her mood up. "We'll make an entrance."

She gave another mirthless laugh. "I haven't been home in eight years," she reminded. "I think we're making enough of an entrance as it is."

"Well I'm ready whenever you are," he said gently, watching as she kept her eyes on the upstairs windows, moving from each one to the next, counting. "Which one is yours?" he asked, hoping to stir some kind of reaction.

The corners of her eyes creased. "That one," she said finally, pointing to the last on the far right. "I think. At least it used to be. Knowing Mama she probably redecorated the whole thing." Calleigh shook her head and glanced at her watch, taking in the setting sun as she lowered her eyes to her wrist. "Guess there's no time like the present," she said finally, yanking open the driver's side door.

"That's my girl," Eric said under his breath following her to the front of the car where she stopped again. "Everything okay?" he asked, noticing she'd traded her impassive face for one of anxiety.

"I know it's silly but could you just…" she rolled her eyes at her own request. "Could you just hold my hand? Just until I calm down a little…I'll let go eventually, I swear. I just…I don't want to walk in there without you."

Eric took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly. "Anything you want," he said softly, entwining their fingers once again.

Calleigh took a deep breath and started toward the house again, neglecting the front door and heading straight to the back, where the sounds of a party could be heard.

The backyard was just as impressive as the front with a large, detached garage and an expansive patio that branched off from the wraparound porch. Hung around the perimeter of the yard, Eric saw, were twinkling Christmas lights, giving the yard a welcoming, homey feel.

"Oh my God!" Eric felt Calleigh's grip tighten as a woman with a huge pile of red hair spotted them with a squeal. "The prodigal daughter returns!"

"My sister-in-law," she said quickly as the woman rushed toward them, stiletto heels clicking against the planks of the patio. "Penny," she greeted aloud, allowing the woman to wrap her willow arms around her neck. "How are you?"

"Just fine, sugar, just fine. Look at you!" she exclaimed, giving Calleigh the once over. "Don't you look just all grown up. And who," she turned her large blue eyes on Eric, "is this?"

Calleigh smiled and bumped her head against Eric's shoulder. "This is Eric; Eric, Penny Duquesne, my sister-in-law."

"Do I hear my sweet little lambchop over there?" Kenwall interrupted the introductions loudly and peered over the patio railing. "What are ya'll doin' in the driveway? Get on up here and join the party!"

By the time they reached him, Calleigh had no choice but to let go of Eric's hand as she was attacked by three individual men. One he knew—Duke, her father; the other two he didn't.

"Eric, these are my brothers, Jackson," she pointed to the large blonde man who had just mercilessly tousled her hair, "and Owen—oh my God!" before she could finish her thought, Owen had picked her up and spun her around.

"We ain't seen you in a minute Cal!" he exclaimed with the same enthusiasm as his wife. "What's it gotta take to get you to come visit every once in awhile?"

Calleigh looked grateful to have both feet back on the ground. She gave a pained smiled and straightened her hair. "Oh, you know how busy I am—and what's the problem on your end? Too important to schedule a little trip to Miami to see your big sister?"

Owen didn't have a chance to answer. The back door had swung open and a short, blonde woman in Spandex running pants and long, floral top strutted out, clutching a Bloody Mary in one hand and a cigarette in the other. "Oh. My. Merciful Heavens," she said the cigarette falling from her hand. Quickly, she stamped it out with the toe of her high heeled shoe. "Well if it isn't my long lost daughter."

Calleigh cleared her throat nervously. "Hi, Mama."

She stopped just short of a hug and appraised her daughter from head to toe. "You're lookin' kind of skinny, honey," she said finally, "you been eatin' enough?"

Calleigh's eyes closed for a moment longer than a blink. Eric noticed the muscles in her shoulders tense up. "Yes, ma'am."

"Well if you say so," Carlene shrugged and opened her arms. "Come give your mama a hug."

Calleigh stepped carefully into her mother's arms, allowing herself only a moment's embrace before pulling away. "Mama, this is Eric," she took a step back and rested a hand on his arm.

"Well how very nice to meet you in person, Eric," Carlene dropped a kiss in the air beside his cheek. "From the sounds of it, you're making my little girl very happy."

Calleigh felt her face heat up, but Eric slipped his hand back into hers and smiled good-naturedly. "Well, I'm certainly trying ma'am."

"Young man," Duke extended his hand. "It's nice to see you again," he smiled as they shook on it. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Yeah," Eric nodded. "That'd be great. Whatever you've got is fine."

"Follow me on inside," he gave a wave of his hand. "Let you pick for yourself."

"Cal," he squeezed her hand. "Do you want to come?"

She looked around at all the family she'd yet to greet. "I think I'm okay," she smiled, letting go of his hand for good this time. "Can you get me something to drink though?"

He nodded. "Of course. Any requests?"

She shook her head. "You know what I like," she said with a smile.

As her father led him inside, Calleigh was approached by another woman, this time a brunette—Denise, Jackson's live-in of almost ten years. "Do you believe this?" Denise asked by way of greeting, motioning to the chairs and flowers set up for tomorrow's event. "I'm never gonna get married and your fuckin' Mama and Daddy are doin' it twice." She rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh.

Calleigh couldn't help it—she had to laugh at Denise's trademark sarcasm. "Oh thank God you're here, Denny," she said with a sigh, looking around the back yard. "This is crazy."

"Of course it's crazy," she agreed, taking a long pull of her longneck. "It's this family, ain't it?"

She gave a resigned nod. "I guess that's true."

"So who is that hunk of tall, dark and gorgeous you have with you?" Denise asked, quickly changing the subject.

Calleigh rolled her eyes. "His name is Eric Delko."

"Mmm hmm," Denise raised her eyebrows suggestively. "If that's how they grow 'em down in Miami then I am _definitely_ with the wrong man in the wrong city."

By the time the party was over, Eric had been introduced to most of Calleigh's extended family including Aunt Beulah, an eighty-six year old woman with slightly purple hair who drank her way through an entire bottle of Southern Comfort from the time they got there to the time she left. Calleigh assured him this was entirely normal and that at one point, she had had two sisters, both of whom could do the same thing. Eric hadn't needed to ask what had happened to them.

As they headed inside, collecting stray empty bottles and bits of garbage, Carlene was dolling out spare sets of sheets and bedroom assignments. "Owen and Penny, you'll be in O's old room. Now, are the girls staying here tomorrow?" she asked of Calleigh's twin nieces—April and May—who were spending the night at Penny's parents' in town.

"If that's okay," Penny tucked the sheets under her arm and raised her eyebrows hopefully.

"Of course it's okay!" Carlene exclaimed, gently whacking Penny on the arm. "The more the merrier—just remind me to put some sheets on Jackson's old bed for them.

"Calleigh, you and Eric are going to be up in your room, if that's all right," she dropped a stack of sheets into Calleigh's waiting arms. "There's fresh towels in your bathroom, Cal, and extra quilts in the closet."

Eric couldn't believe that in a heat so dense you could practically see it, anyone was able to talk about extra quilts. "I'm going to go make the bed," Calleigh said with a nod to the upper level.

"I'll go get the bags," he offered, taking the keys from her purse. When he returned, Calleigh had made the bed and was perched precariously on the edge of it. She glanced around the empty room—noting that only the picture that remained from her youth was that of Jesus that had always terrified her as a child. "Are you okay?" he asked, ducking his head to meet her eyes.

Calleigh shrugged. "This used to be my sanctuary," she said quietly with a sad smile. "I'd spend hours up here just…" she gave another nostalgic shrug. "Just dreaming up a whole new life." Her eyes toured the room again. "It's just weird that it's not mine anymore."

He nodded and looked around with her. "Want to get some air? It's really hot up here."

She smiled and pushed open the windows. "It might cool down by the time we come back."

They crept back down the creaking front stairs amid calls of 'good night, ya'll' and 'see you in the morning' to the front porch. Eric was pleased to see the swing waiting for them—glad the porch hadn't gone to waste.

"I kind of like 'em, Cal," he said after a few moments of rocking in silence.

Calleigh laughed. "Sure, you like them now. Everyone was in a great mood tonight—even Mama."

His smile faded. "But it's not always like that." It wasn't a question; it was the truth he'd just deciphered in her eyes.

"It certainly wasn't the way I remember," Calleigh took a long drink and finished the bottle of water he'd brought her from the car.

Eric nodded slowly, wondering if she would continue. This was the most he'd ever heard her talk about her family before she'd moved to Miami. "Well what do you remember?" he asked gently, waiting for the inevitable—the steely eyes, the tense shoulders, the change of subject.

Calleigh shrugged and looked out into the yard. "They were fun when I was little," she began quietly, keeping her eyes focused on the dark. "I thought it was just a big game, all the dancing and laughing and falling down…" she shook her head. "But then I realized, right around the same time everyone else did, that it wasn't. And then it was just a big cycle. Daddy would drink and Mama would run around and then they'd fight and make up and get back together and everything would be great for a few days before…" she dropped her eyes to her hands finally.

"Before something would happen?" Eric asked softly, not wanting to stop her, but not wanting to push her either.

"Or nothing would happen," she answered with a shake of her head. "And it would start all over anyway. It's just not a fun way to spend your childhood," she said resignedly. "Pulling your father out of bars, wondering if your mother's going to come home this time or if she's finally gone for good…" She chanced herself to look at him and gave another shrug. "That's what I remember."

He didn't know what to say, so he opened his arms and let her fall against him gently. He stroked her hair and waited for something to come to him. Nothing did and after a few moments, she yawned soundly. "Want to go to bed?" he asked softly, not letting her out of his embrace. She nodded against him and let him lead her back upstairs.

She was already changed when he came out of the bathroom and climbed under the covers with her. Despite the heat, she cuddled into him the moment he lay next to her. "Cal," he asked as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you tell me all that stuff about your parents?"

"I don't know," she said softly after a few moments of contemplation. "I just thought it was something you should know."

Eric kissed the soft skin of her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. "Thank you for telling me," he whispered into the dark.

0x0x0

They were awoken early the next morning by a very strange sound: slightly melodic, mildly off-key, and most definitely baritone.

"I'm gettin' married in the morning!" it came bellowing from the bathroom across the hall. "DING DONG the bells are gonna chime!"

Calleigh groaned and covered her face with her hand. "Dear sweet Jesus…" she muttered, grabbing Eric's wrist and examining the time. "It's six-thirty in the morning."

"I thought we were on vacation," Eric mumbled. "Why is he singing?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to face him. "Because he's my dad," she said simply. "And that's what he does when he's happy."

"Do you think he's planning on being happy very often while we're here?"

Calleigh laughed and buried her head in his neck, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. "We can only hope not."

"Duke!" Carlene's distinct voice could be heard over the singing.

"Uh-oh, here comes Mama," Calleigh muttered, holding her breath.

"Duke!" she yelled again. "Do you have any idea what time it is? You're gonna wake the whole damn neighborhood!"

"They should be awake!" Kenwall hollered back, neither of them feeling any need to lower their voices. "It's a gorgeous day in Louisiana!"

"Well believe it or not, it's still a Saturday and _some_ people—not crazy people like you—but some people like to sleep in on a Saturday!"

"I'm not one of them."

Eric laughed to himself, listening to this ridiculous argument. "Yes, Duke, I can see that."

"Do you know why, my fair Carlene?"

"Why don't you enlighten me?"

"Because I'm gettin' married in the morning! DING DONG! The bells are gonna chime!" he returned to his song, louder than ever.

Calleigh giggled and shook her head. "Whoever let that man watch My Fair Lady oughtta be shot."

"Is that what that's from?" Eric asked conversationally, running his fingers up and down the length of her arm.

"Yes," she rolled her eyes. "It was my Mama's favorite movie at one point—I guess it stuck with him."

"Here I was thinking he just made it up."

"And we're NOT getting married in the morning, you old fool!" Carlene yelled over top of the song. "We're getting married at _sunset. _You could at least sing the right song!"

"I tried it earlier," he yelled back. "Didn't have the same ring to it!"

Calleigh laughed again and pushed herself up, squinting in the early morning sunlight. "Well I'm up."

"I'm not," Eric yanked her back down and snuggled into her.

"Eric, he's just going to keep going."

"That song can't go on forever…he's gotta stop sometime."

"Trust me," she shook her head. "He'll just start singing something else."

"Like what?"

Calleigh sighed. "Like 'we're going to the backyard and we're gonna get married' or something ridiculous like that."

Eric sat up. "All right, I'm up. Anything's better than listening to your dad sing Bette Midler."

Penny and Owen were already sitting out on the patio when they made their way downstairs. "There's coffee, ya'll," Penny called through the screen door, motioning to the nearly full pot waiting for them.

"Thank God," Calleigh muttered under her breath, pouring a cup for Eric and one for herself before adding sugar.

They dropped down into the two remaining chairs and sipped their coffee in silence for a few moments before Owen glanced at his watch. "What got you all up?" he asked, squinting at the time.

"My Fair Lady," they muttered in unison. Calleigh rolled her eyes and took another gulp of her coffee.

"Oh, you missed the Alabama medley?" Penny asked, deeply surprised. "How the hell'd you manage to sleep through that?"

"I had myself convinced it was some horrible dream," Eric said, stifling a yawn.

Calleigh looked at the white folding chairs, flowers, and bunches of ribbons set up throughout the yard. "Can you believe their actually getting married again?" she asked with a shake of her head.

"No," Owen and his wife answered together.

"What time is the ceremony again?"

"Six," Penny answered, causing Calleigh to check Eric's watch again.

"Then what in the hell are they doing up so early? God," she leaned back in the chair, her blonde hair falling in a sheet behind her. "I almost miss them drinkin'…at least then you knew they'd be sleeping off hangovers until noon."

Owen chuckled and raked a hand through is own blonde hair. "Well I know why Dad's up…we're supposed to be going huntin' at seven-thirty, Jackson's meetin' us at the field." He turned his attention to Eric. "You're more than welcome to join us," he invited. "We just didn't know if huntin' was your thing."

Calleigh made a face. "Ya'll are huntin' on his wedding day?"

Owen shrugged. "It's what he wants to do."

"What do you guys hunt this time of year?" Eric asked, gulping more coffee, willing himself to be more alert.

"Feral hog mostly. Feel like joinin' us?"

Eric glanced over at Calleigh. "Do you hunt?"

"No, no," she shook her head with a smile. "I'm a girl—I was never allowed tag along with the boys. But you should go—it's a lot of fun."

"Yeah," Owen clapped him on the back. "Give us a chance to bond."

"Yeah, sure," he shrugged. "I'll go."

Calleigh looked up toward the upstairs again. "Well if they're all leaving at seven-thirty, I might be able to go back to sleep," she mused hopefully.

"Doubt it, honey," Penny shook her head, large crimson tendrils falling from her messy bun into her face. "From what I gathered your mama has beauty plans for all of us."

Calleigh groaned and dropped her head into her arms. "We don't have to get our hair done, do we?"

Penny laughed. "You know Carlene—it's not an event unless your hair is four times its normal size. The bigger the hair…"

"The closer to God," Calleigh finished with a roll of her eyes. "Yes, Grandma's wisdom lives on—I'm sure she's smiling down on us."

Eric chuckled. "You know, I'll bet my mom's up," he stood and pointed back to the house. "I'm going to give her a call—check in on the kid."

Calleigh smiled at the mention of Lucas. "Let me talk when you're done," she requested, finishing up her coffee.

"I'll be back," he promised, heading in.

Owen stood as well. "I'm getting refills," he stated, gathering empty coffee cups. "Another round for everyone?"

"Yes, please."

Penny offered her sister-in-law a raised eyebrow. "You're really quite smitten," she commented.

Calleigh allowed a playful look to pass over her face. "You saw him," she said. "Wouldn't you be smitten?"

"So what's the deal with this baby?"

"There's no deal," she shook her head. "His name is Lucas, he's four months old and he's great."

"So you're just a happy little instant family?" Penny asked, mildly unconvinced.

"I don't know," Calleigh gave an embarrassed laugh. "I love them, they love me…whatever it is," she shrugged. "It's working out."

"It must be," Penny mused. "Because something's making you just positively _glow_."

Owen returned then and Calleigh—glowing or otherwise—hid her smile in her cup of coffee.

_TBC_

* * *

"I'm Getting Married in the Morning" belongs to My Fair Lady

and

"Goin' to the Chapel of Love" is actually by the Dixie Cups...but The Divine Miss M made it famous

AN: Zen master has returned from Italy! Hooray! This chapter is way too long. I just realized. It needs to be split. Again. Sorry for the delay, but who really wants to read a 40pg chapter via computer? Not many people…and if you're one who would…well…just wait for part three. It's coming soon I promise! Cross my heart! It's all written out in my head, I just need to write it out on paper. Much love to you guys as always. Kisses!


	12. Chapter Eleven

AN: Mucho gracias to the zen and somethingsdont for all the help and input. And hooray for all my new fanfic friendships!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

_August_

_(part three)_

Calleigh eyed the curling iron as it moved dangerously close to her head. "I swear to God, Trudy. I don't do big hair, all right?"

"She's lying, Trude," Carlene called from two parlor chairs over. "Everyone does big hair."

Calleigh rolled her eyes. "No, Mama. You do big hair…I do not."

"Well you're missing out on some of the finer things in life, then," Carlene said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Between them, Penny and Denise exchanged looks. "You know, it might just be easier to do what she says," Denise said quietly, glancing from mother to daughter.

"You might have told her that years ago," Carlene interjected. "Save us all a lot of trouble."

Denise's eyes widened. "How did she hear me?" she whispered.

Calleigh sighed. "She has ears like a bat." Trudy made a move for the hairspray. "Trudy…what did I say?"

"Honey, I've got vision," Trudy countered, applying liberal amounts to the crown of Calleigh's head. "You can't squelch vision just because you don't 'do big hair'. I'm sorry, but that's the truth."

She sighed. Trudy obviously knew nothing about not doing big hair. In the thirty three years Calleigh had known her, Trudy's white blonde hair had never been anything but beehived on top of her head. Still using a criminal amount of blue eye shadow and red lipstick, Calleigh remembered Trudy always kind of looking like a life size Barbie doll. In the years since she'd left home, that truth remained the same. "Fine, do what you want but if I end up looking like someone from Fried Green Tomatoes…we're going to have a problem."

Trudy chuckled to herself and continued her assault with the hairspray.

It was an hour later and with tall, stiff 'dos that the four Duquesne women sat in a line being pedicured.

"So Cal, how serious would you say things are with you and Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome?" Denise asked, casually examining her bright pink manicure.

She rolled her eyes again. "His name is Eric…"

"But you don't deny that he is, in fact tall, dark, and handsome," Denise shrugged. "I'm a reporter, I work well in adjectives." She cleared her throat. "And anyway, you never answered the question—how serious are we talking?"

Calleigh looked up from her outdated magazine and found three sets of eyes anxiously awaiting an answer. "I don't know…" she gave a nervous laugh and scratched at the back of her neck. "We're…exclusive…I guess?"

"So are we hearing wedding bells in the future?" Penny prodded wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh, God," Calleigh felt suddenly overwhelmed. "I…I don't think so. At least, not anytime soon. We haven't really talked about it."

"Oh c'mon…you at least must have thought about it." Denise urged.

She tucked a stiff tendril behind her ear and pursed her lips. "I'm not really sure…it's not something I think about. I don't know I'd be all that good at being married."

Realizing they weren't going to get any juicy girl-talk, Penny and Denise moved onto another topic. As they chattered away about work and other matters, the three of them managed to miss the distressed look that had just come over Carlene's lovely face.

0x0x0

The boys were back by the time they returned around two, clustered in the living room, talking baseball. Kenwall rose to his feet chivalrously as the quartet shuffled in from the porch. "Aren't you all just a vision?" he remarked with a shake of his head.

Calleigh noticed Eric's eyes widen and his lips purse together in an attempt to smother a laugh. She shot him a glare. "Yes, vision is a word that was used quite often today." She dropped down onto the couch next to him. "I'm brushing it out," she assured him of her high pile of curls.

"I'm kind of digging it," he said with a chuckle that earned him an elbow to the ribs.

"How was hunting?" she asked, noticing the scratches on his forearms.

"Oh we had a great time!" Owen exclaimed. "We got ourselves a beauty, didn't we boys?"

Eric nodded and laughed proudly with the guys for a moment before grabbing Calleigh's leg. "Why didn't you tell me what a feral hog was?" he hissed.

She looked up, surprised. "I assumed you knew."

"You assumed I knew that vampires were being bred with pigs?"

Calleigh giggled. "You weren't scared, were you?"

He gave a manly toss of his shoulders. "Of course not."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'll bet."

"Calleigh, honey," Carlene interrupted their bantering as she popped her head out from the kitchen. "Would you mind meeting me out on the porch?"

Calleigh felt her brow furrow and that unmistakable knot form in her stomach. "Sure, Mama. Everything okay?"

"Mmm hmm. I'll be out in a minute."

She got up from the couch and crossed the room back to the front door. "Somebody's in trouble…" Jackson hummed under his breath, earning a swift kick to the shin as she stepped over his legs.

Her mother joined her on the porch a few moments later, stirring a familiar tomatoey beverage with a stalk of celery. Calleigh frowned. "Mama, what is that?"

Carlene looked down and gave an innocent shrug. "It's virgin!" she exclaimed. "Cross my heart." When her daughter still didn't look convinced, she offered a sip. "Go ahead if you don't believe me."

Calleigh took the glass from her and took a cautious swallow. She gave a wheezing cough and placed a hand to her throat. "Yeah, that's almost pure Tabasco sauce."

"You know, without the vodka it just doesn't have the same kick," Carlene shook her head. "I had to add something."

Calleigh resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "So what's up, Mama?"

"Why would you say something like that?" Carlene asked suddenly, taking her daughter by surprise.

Calleigh blinked. "Say something like what? What did I say?"

"When you said you wouldn't be good at being married—that it wasn't something you ever thought about…why would you say that?"

She sighed. "I don't think this is the kind of conversation we need to have four hours before your own wedding, Mama."

"Wrong you are, young lady. You're going to tell me what's going on in that pretty little head if I have to drill it out myself." She raised an expectant eyebrow. "Well? Go on…talk!"

Calleigh opened and closed her mouth a few times, wondering if the truth was really the best option. After a moment, she figured it would come out eventually. "Well, I mean…would you think you'd be very good at being married if you had you and Daddy as role models?"

Carlene looked like she'd been slapped in the face. "Calleigh Jo…"

"Look, I'm sorry—but you asked why I felt that way and that's the truth." She motioned apologetically with her hands. "And no, I don't know why you're putting yourself through this with Daddy again because I was there the last time, Mama, and I remember what it was like. It didn't work."

Her mother sat back in the swing and stared off into the neighbor's yard for what felt like a long time. "I know what it was like the last time, Calleigh, and I'm sorry that I put you and your brothers through that," she said carefully after thoughtful consideration. "But I honestly think things are different this time. And despite our rather…colorful history," she allowed herself a smile, "your father is the only man who's ever made me truly happy."

"But he did a lot more than that too," Calleigh reminded gently.

"And so did I," Carlene admitted. "We were bad to each other, honey. But if he can forgive me and I can forgive him and we can still feel like there's something there between us? That's gotta be something worth fighting for. Besides, when it's good," she gave a satisfied chuckle. "When it's good, darlin', they could write books…"

"Yeah," Calleigh said, still unconvinced. "And when it's bad, they could write manuals."

"I guess I'm not going to persuade you right away," Carlene sighed, taking a sip of her Virgin Mary. "But what I can tell you is that you, my beautiful baby girl, are nothing like me…and I thank God for that everyday." She took her daughter by the hand. "And you deserve better than what I showed you marriage could be. You deserve someone who, even when it's bad, it's still good." She motioned to the inside of the house. "Someone who loves you, like that boy in there."

Calleigh smiled and rolled her eyes. "Are you meddling again?"

"Of course I am," she scoffed. "I'm a Mama, it's my God-given right." She squeezed Calleigh's hand. "Just don't think you're going to make my mistakes, honey girl. I taught you better than that." She leaned over and pressed a long kiss to Calleigh's forehead.

"Mama…" the younger of the two shook her head in disbelief.

"What, sweetheart?"

She smiled. "Sometimes I really love you."

Carlene grinned back. "Well sometimes I really love you too."

0x0x0

The ceremony happened at sunset without a hitch. Friends and family filled the backyard and watched with smiles (skeptical or otherwise) as the bride and groom promised to never put one another through their first marriage again. Calleigh even allowed herself a small seed of hope as they sealed the deal with a kiss that maybe her mother had been right—maybe it was different this time.

As was customary, food and backyard dancing followed immediately. Eric slipped his hand in Calleigh's as couples began taking the floor. "C'mon, you big-haired Southern belle," he nodded toward the floor. "I want to dance with you."

Calleigh laughed and nodded reluctantly. "Let me just put my shoes inside, I'm going to break my ankle if I try to dance in these." She wiggled her stilettos at him for a moment.

He grinned down at her. "Just promise you'll come back—Aunt Beulah's been eyeing me up."

"Uh-oh," Calleigh shook her head. "I hear she's a tiger—you might have picked the wrong Duquesne."

"I think I'll take my chances with this one," he said softly, leaning in for a kiss.

"I'll be right back," she promised. She unbuckled her shoes and dropped them down next to her purse on a chair in the kitchen. Just as she was about to return to her date, she heard a familiar ringtone buzzing from inside the bag. Calleigh sighed. "I'm off duty," she muttered to herself. "What could they possibly want?" She shot the display a confused look before flipping open the phone. "Valera?"

"I know you're at your parents' wedding," she began hurriedly. "And I know you've probably got a million other things you'd rather be doing right now, but…I'm kind of having a crisis."

Calleigh raised an eyebrow. "A crisis? Is everything okay? Are you hurt?"

"What? Hurt? No, no, it's nothing like that. It's Ryan."

"Ryan?"

"Yes, Wolfe. You know, shorter, kind of big ears…huge nerd?"

Calleigh rolled her eyes. "What _about _Ryan, Valera?"

"Well, I was wondering what your thoughts were on having sex with him."

"Personally? It's not something I'd be into."

Valera gave a groan of frustration. "I meant me! I want to have sex with him!"

"Where are you?"

"We're out right now, I'm in the ladies room. He looks _really _good."

Calleigh allowed herself a girlish giggle. "So go for it."

"Really? You think I should?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "Why not?"

"You don't think it's too soon?"

She almost laughed. "You've been seeing him for over six weeks…I'm surprised this hasn't happened yet."

"I don't want to rush into it and ruin everything," Valera said, sounding genuinely concerned. "I haven't been in a relationship that's not all about sex in a really long time. I really like him, Cal."

"I don't think you're rushing anything," Calleigh assured her, feeling a flicker of pride for Valera's sudden maturity.

"Well how long did you and Eric wait?"

"Seven years," she reminded harshly. "I don't recommend it."

Valera laughed. "Point taken."

"Good. Go have yourself some sex."

"I think I will!"

"Just, y'know, be safe."

"Always!" Valera promised. "Thanks, Cal. You're a lifesaver."

Calleigh was just about to protest that 'lifesaver' might be taking it a bit far but Valera had already hung up. She shook her head, tucked her phone back into her purse and returned the party just in time to see Aunt Beulah working her magic on Eric. She sidled up beside him and slipped her arm through his. "Aunt B," she smiled sweetly. "Would you mind terribly if I took this tall drink of water off your hands? I promised him a dance."

"Of course not, sugar, you two enjoy yourselves," she waved them off.

Eric slid his arms around her waist and gave her an appraising look. "Jealous, are we?"

Calleigh smiled and locked her fingers behind his head. "Chartreuse with envy."

"I knew it."

"I feel I should tell you that as we speak, Maxine Valera is seducing Ryan Wolfe."

Eric looked stunned for a moment. "How do you know this?"

"She called to make sure it was okay."

He rolled his eyes. "Those two…"

"I know—if only every relationship was as functional as ours."

Eric studied her. "You're kind of cute when you're sarcastic."

She smiled. "Who are you kiddin'? I'm always cute."

And Eric, as usual, was hard pressed to come with an argument for Calleigh's brand of logic.

0x0x0

Eric laughed as Lucas' chubby hand landed on his nose. He couldn't remember ever really missing anyone as much as he'd missed his son in the three days they were apart. He lifted the baby's shirt and blew a raspberry on his belly. Lucas squealed in delight.

Calleigh returned from the bathroom with a smile. "What a happy boy," she commented

"He's back with his old man," Eric shrugged and smiled as the child began babbling merrily once more. "What's not to be happy about?"

"Oh, I was talking about you," Calleigh tilted her head to the side. "But I guess you've got a point." She reached for him. "Come see me, big guy."

Eric raised his eyebrows. "Well now you've got to specify. Me or him?"

"Cute," she remarked, taking the squishy child in her arms. She placed a kiss on his cheek. "Boy would you have had a good time in Louisiana."

Eric laughed. "Yeah, maybe next trip."

"Sure," Calleigh agreed, allowing Lucas to tug gently on her hair. "He'll be about eleven by then…no reason not to bring him along."

"C'mon, it wasn't that bad…"

She sighed. "It could've been worse," she relented.

"Exactly, it could've been much worse."

"Someone could have died."

He rolled his eyes. "Admit it—you didn't hate it."

"All right, all right. I didn't _hate _it." She turned her attention back to Lucas. "But I think you would've made things a lot more interesting," she said in a low voice, right next to his ear.

As he was prone to do, Lucas gave another belly laugh and tugged hard on her hair. "Easy, Luke," Eric warned. "That hair's been through a lot this weekend."

"I swear, if you tell anyone about that…"

"You'll what?"

"I'll tell everyone how afraid of the feral hogs you were."

He scoffed. "I wasn't scared."

"Mmm hmm. You called them vampire pigs."

"They are vampire pigs!" he exclaimed. "They're three times the size of a normal pig, they've got giant fangs and this bloodthirsty look in their eyes. And then they charge at you when you're trying to shoot them!"

Calleigh laughed. "Bloodthirsty, charging, vampire pigs. Oh yeah, you weren't scared at all." She returned Lucas to the waiting hands of his father and pressed a kiss to Eric's mouth. "But don't worry, it's our little secret."

"As long as I don't tell anyone about your Dolly Parton hairdo?"

"That's right," she tossed her purse over her shoulder. "All right, Delko men, I'm going home to unpack and relax."

Eric looked around the apartment. "You could relax here."

"I think I need to absorb everything that happened this weekend," she said honestly, raking a hand through her hair before holding up a chunk. "You know, maybe do a deep conditioning treatment."

He smiled. "Okay; see you tomorrow?"

She kissed him again. "Count on it."

Once he was alone in the apartment, Eric plopped down on the couch with his son in his arms. "Calleigh's people are nice," he told Lucas, dropping a kiss onto the top of his head. "Nice and crazy."

When asked how the weekend had gone, both parties would answer honestly, "Educational."

* * *

AN: And thus concludes our three-part episode of the month of August. Unless someone comes up with some great idea for September, I'll most likely be jumping over to October to put Lucas at that wonderful six-month marker. Questions? Comments? Review!


	13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

AN: Sorry for the delay, hopefully you'll all see why it took so long to write in just a few moments…

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

_October_

Eric strolled into the autopsy theatre early one afternoon, not surprised to find Alexx waiting for him with the body of their victim and a smile on her face.

"Hey, Alexx," he greeted, mirroring her smile. "Whatcha got for me?"

"Our boy here?" she motioned to the body. "Cause of death wasn't blunt force trauma."

"I thought he was hit in the back of the head?"

"He was…but the blows to the head were overkill—his neck is fractured."

Eric nodded slowly. "Interesting. That changes our crime scene a little bit." He reached for his cell phone. "H is going to want to know about this." They spoke briefly before Eric snapped his phone shut and tucked it back into his pocket. As he did so, his fingers brushed something rubber and pliable. "What the…" his brow furrowed, Eric reached further into the pocket and pulled out a blue and yellow pacifier.

Alexx smiled. "I hope that's not yours."

He smiled back. "You're cute."

"I know."

Eric's smile faded quickly as he glanced at the clock above Alexx's head. "Damnit…"

"What is it, honey?"

He held up the pacifier. "This just reminded me…" he reached into his other pocket and retrieved a tiny bottle of prescription drops. "I was supposed to drop these off at the daycare—Lucas has an ear infection."

"Poor thing."

"Yeah, I know—he's miserable," Eric shook his head and looked at the time again. "I've gotta go meet H, I don't have time to go to the daycare and explain all this…"

"Well, I can do it," Alexx offered, holding out her hand. "I'm done with this gentleman until trace comes back and they've been backed up for hours. How many does he get in each ear—one every three hours?" Eric looked back blankly in shock; Alexx rolled her eyes. "Baby, I'm a doctor _and _a mother…trust me, I've heard just about every prognosis."

Eric laughed and handed her the drops and the pacifier. "You're a lifesaver."

"I know it." She shooed him away. "You go do your job, I'll do mine."

The daycare on the fourth floor was bustling when Alexx arrived. Many of the working parents, she remembered stopped up once or twice a week to have lunch with their children. They caregivers had very little problem with Alexx's request to sit with Lucas for a few minutes to administer his medicine. When they brought him out to her, he was looking grumpy and tugging hard at his ear.

"Poor little guy," Alexx clucked, taking the baby in her arms. "Auntie Alexx has some medicine for that," she gently moved his hand away from his ear and squeezed a drop in each ear. "That should make it better, sweetheart."

"What are you doing up here?"

Alexx's head shot up at the sound of Calleigh approaching with a smile. "I could ask you the same question, young lady."

"I was just in the neighborhood," she said coyly, smiling down at Lucas.

"Mm hmm…" Alexx regarded her with a knowing raised eyebrow.

"So I check in on him sometimes. It's just because I know he hasn't been feeling well lately." She stroked the child's head. "You've been keeping your daddy up very late, mister."

At the sound of her voice, Lucas' disposition changed. He smiled and began babbling happily. Alexx laughed. "I see somebody has a thing for a Southern accent."

"What can I say? It drives 'em wild…"

"He must take after his papa more than we've been giving him credit for," Alexx looked into Lucas' face. "Hmm? Is that right?" She dropped a kiss onto his cheek and turned him around in her lap to face Calleigh. "So how are things with your parents?"

Calleigh shrugged. "They seem to be okay, I guess. Mama's actually considering coming here for Thanksgiving this year," she shook her head. "That's gotta be my dad's doing…either that or she started drinking again."

"Ma-ma," Lucas' babbling stopped at the sound. Alexx's laughter stopped too. Impressed by the reaction he received, he tried it again. "Ma-ma…" the word gave way to a string of incoherence, leaving Calleigh thoroughly shaken.

"Did he just say…?"

Alexx read her look of panic. "Honey, he's only six months old. He doesn't know what he's saying, I'm sure he's just putting sounds together."

"But you heard him, right? It sounded like…" she shook her head. "Like what I think it sounded like?"

"Well, yes," she nodded slowly. "But like I said, he's probably just repeating what he heard you say."

Calleigh nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah," she forced a stiff smile to her face. "You're probably right."

"Calleigh, baby, are you okay?" Alexx studied her closely, not liking the sinking feeling of understanding crawling through her.

"I'm fine," she nodded again, standing up. "I've just…I've just got to get back to work. I'll talk to you later."

She was back in the elevator before Alexx could get another word in. The older woman sighed and bounced Lucas on her knee. When her babies had called her ma-ma for the first time, she'd been overjoyed. She'd called her mother, her sisters, everyone she knew and proudly boasted what geniuses she'd created.

But Lucas wasn't Calleigh's baby. Not really. As far as she knew, Calleigh had never even entertained the idea of being called 'ma-ma'. She kissed the baby's head again and focused his eyes on her. "Lucas," she said very seriously, "you are a very good baby. And this has nothing to do with you."

He accepted this with solemn, sparkling eyes and chubby hand pressed lightly against her cheek. He understood, Alexx knew. Something wasn't right.

0x0x0

Eric hadn't liked the way Calleigh had sounded on the phone. He'd asked her repeatedly if she was all right.

"I'm fine," she repeated, sounding quite the opposite. "I just…I just need to talk to you." She paused and took another deep breath. "Can I come over?"

"Of course you can," he'd said instantly. "You know you don't have to ask. We'll be here whenever you get here."

It was later than he thought it would be by the time she finally showed up. She hadn't changed from her work clothes, he noticed right away, and she didn't bother taking her shoes off when she came in. "Hey," she said, standing around the doorway, unease in her voice.

"Hey," he echoed, his stomach forming the beginning phases of a knot. "A case run late?" he asked of her appearance.

She looked down, surprised at what she found herself wearing. "Oh, no…I've been…" she shook the words from her mind. "I haven't gotten a chance to go home yet."

He acknowledged this with a nod. "You want to sit down?" he motioned awkwardly to the couch. Where had this formality come from? What had suddenly become so tense between the two of them?

She took the invitation and perched nervously on the edge. "How was your day?" she made a weak attempt at small talk.

"Calleigh, what's going on?" Eric asked, cutting their dance around the topic short. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"

She pursed her lips and looked down at her hands, watching them clasp and unclasp uselessly in her lap. "I don't think this is a good idea anymore," she said softly, raising her eyes to meet his.

Eric blinked in surprise. "What's not a good idea?" he asked, suddenly wishing they were still dancing.

"This," she motioned the dense air between them. "Us. You and me. I don't…I don't think it's wise to keep going with it."

"You don't think it's _wise_?" he repeated in disbelief. "Can I ask what made you change your mind in the span of twelve hours?"

"It's something I've been thinking about," she evaded disclosing the full truth. "Not just for the past twelve hours…for awhile now. I just…" she dropped her eyes again, unable to look at him. "I think it's best if we just went back to the way things were…before somebody gets hurt."

Eric could feel his face molding into a look of confusion. "Before somebody gets hurt? Cal," he tilted her eyes to meet his. "What are you talking about? Who is going to get hurt?"

"You!" she exclaimed, twisting away from his touch. "You and Lucas when you realize that I'm not his mother and we're not some instant family."

He sat back. "Where is this coming from?"

"He said 'ma-ma' today," she admitted softly. "I don't know if it was intentional or not but…" she shrugged helplessly. "He said it and I heard it and I realized that I hadn't even considered who I am to him. I've been telling people that I've been helping you out and giving you a hand and…I never thought of how confusing that might be to him."

"Cal, he's just a baby—"

"Yes," she cut him off emphatically. "He's a baby and he's _your _baby, Eric. He's not _our _baby—you should be spending every minute you can with him, not wasting time with me."

"It's never wasted time…"

"But it's time that I've taken away from the two of you that you can't get back. He should be your number one priority right now, not trying to make this thing with me work."

Eric's jaw settled into a hard line. "Calleigh, I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you every day for seven years and I can't figure out why you're suddenly implying that, after six months, I'm suddenly not going to be able to have room for both of you in my life."

She covered her face momentarily with her hands, rubbing at her eyes. This had sounded so much more logical in the car. "There's no way to tell where this is going to end up between us, Eric," she began, willing the emotion from her voice. "It's not fair to Lucas for me to spend any more time with him if there's a chance things aren't going to work out. I wouldn't want him getting attached and then getting hurt."

"You mean you don't want to risk getting attached and getting hurt," Eric challenged.

"I just don't know if I'm ready to be a mother yet," Calleigh said with a heavy sigh.

He shook his head. "Well I wasn't ready to be a father, Calleigh, but he needed me. I _fell in love_ with him."

She knew what he wanted. He wanted her to tell him that despite everything, she still loved him—still loved them both. She touched his hand for the briefest of moments and met his eyes. "Then you know that this is the right thing to do."

He wanted to grab her wrist and hold her in place. He wanted to go after her as she got up and let herself out. But he didn't. He sat there, shell-shocked at what had just happened.

After everything he and Calleigh been through, those old demons of hers had finally won out.

* * *

AN: See what I mean? Would you really want to do that to Eric? After everything the man's been through, this is how I treat him. Le sigh. Um…shameless beg for reviews to lift my spirits?


	14. Chapter Thirteen

AN: ((Dodges tomatoes)) I know. I suck. I've been beating myself up for awhile about this…but these things happen in any normal relationship and as predestined as Calleigh and Eric are, I'm doing my best to give them realism. Stick with me, friendships. I promise you won't regret it.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

_November_

To say the mood was tense at CSI would be a gross understatement. Productivity was beginning to dive despite the best attempts of everyone as two of their best CSIs refused to speak to one another.

Actually, Calleigh was attempting to speak. Eric was pointedly ignoring all attempts at civility. He dropped a .38 in an evidence bag in front of her and turned away quickly. She sighed. "Eric, come on. You can't just _not_ talk to me."

He turned back and took a short step in her direction. "Fine. Process this please. Thanks." Before the word was even out of his mouth, he spun back and returned on his way to trace.

Anger bubbled inside her chest. She got up from her stool and stalked after him, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him into an empty lab. "Look, I think we both know we can't go on like this."

Eric raised his eyebrows and slid his hand out of hers. "You said you wanted to go back to the way we were before—you never specified which 'before' you were talking about, so I thought I'd take us back to when we were strangers."

Calleigh felt her anger give way to a flicker of hurt. "Eric…"

"No, don't do that," he shook his head. "I can't just go back to the way things were before, I can't."

"Maybe not right away—"

"No, not right away—not ever. I can't just forget that for a couple months, there, I had everything I've wanted since the day I met you…and then just like that," he snapped his fingers angrily, "it went away." He shook his head. "I don't even know why I'm bothering."

"Eric, come on," Calleigh called after him as he began his trek back to trace.

"I have to get back to work," he called over his shoulder.

Calleigh watched him leave with a deep pang throbbing in her chest. She pinched the bridge of her nose and willed away the unfamiliar prick of tears behind her eyes. "Get back to work," she repeated in a whisper. "Good idea."

From across the lab, Ryan had watched the angry exchange, his frown deepening with every word exchanged. Valera glanced up from her microscope and rolled her eyes. "Okay, either do something productive or get out of my lab."

"I'm being productive," he said listlessly.

"More productive than waiting for your results."

"I'm planning."

"Stop planning."

"It's a good plan, though."

She sighed and raised her eyebrows expectantly. "What is it?"

"You can call Calleigh, tell her to meet you at a certain address; I'll call Eric and tell him to meet me at the same address but tell him it's for a callout."

"And then what?"

"Then we'll lock them in the warehouse and not let them out until they're back together."

Valera blinked. "Where did we get a warehouse?"

"That's the address—did I leave that out?"

"You did. You also left out another really important point."

"What?"

"Who is going to be solving the crimes of Miami while all of this is going on?"

Ryan considered this for a moment. "Natalia and Horatio…and Frank."

"Quite the gaping hole left in the justice league, isn't it?"

"So will you do it?"

"No," Valera returned to her slides.

"Come on," he whined. "It's your job!"

"My job is DNA—see what I'm doing here?" she motioned around the lab. "This is it—this is my whole job. I analyze DNA."

"_And _contribute to maintaining the harmony and growth of CSI."

"Wrong. And if you give me some 'tis the season bullshit, I will officially throw you out of my lab."

Ryan gave a dejected sigh. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "If it's meant to be, it'll be. Stop worrying."

"But…they're Eric and Calleigh," he sighed again. "It hurts to see them like this."

"I know, babe, but it's not really our problem. Let's just focus on something else."

"What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

Her brow furrowed. "Thanksgiving?"

"National holiday. Pilgrims. Indians. Bread breaking—ringing a bell?"

Valera rolled her eyes. "I remember."

"So are you doing anything special with your family?"

"My family's not around here," she shrugged. "We're usually a strictly Christmas-get-together kind of bunch."

"Same here," he admitted, busying his hands with organizing a few reports.

"You're welcome to join me for my annual tradition," Valera piped up finally, offering a coy smile in his direction.

"Do tell."

"It's nothing special—I usually just watch the parade and Charlie Brown movies with a bottle of Jack and then…" she splayed out the fingers on each hand excitedly, "pumpkin pie!"

Ryan laughed, his anguish over Eric and Calleigh momentarily forgotten. He leaned across the table and brushed his lips against hers. "Sounds perfect."

0x0x0

With the mess she'd made with Eric hanging over her head, Calleigh had nearly forgotten that Thanksgiving was upon them. As promised—and to the utter shock of her daughter—Carlene had decided to bring the traditional family dinner to Miami to finally see where Calleigh had made her home.

It wasn't a visit Calleigh was particularly looking forward to.

"It's not going to be that bad," Valera promised as they perused the produce section of the grocery store together.

"She's been with my Dad for about three months now," Calleigh reasoned, examining a display of apples for the least bruised. "I'm going to bet that her Bloody Mary's aren't so virgin anymore."

Valera laughed and shook her head. "I hope for your sake, you're wrong."

"Me too."

Calleigh loaded her cart with the Thanksgiving essentials and watched with interest as Valera selected a large pumpkin pie, two cases of beer and several bags of chips and pretzels. She offered a curious eyebrow.

"What?" Valera asked, noting the differences in their carts.

"Are you having a frat party?"

Her shopping companion laughed again. "I'm making my apartment more man-friendly."

Calleigh nodded with understanding. "So more Ryan-friendly?"

"We just spend a lot of time at his place," she said, grabbing a bag of fun sized Mounds bars. Without waiting to pay, she ripped open the bag and popped one into her mouth.

Calleigh took one as well when it was offered and chewed thoughtfully. "I'm really glad things are working out for the two of you."

"Me too," she smiled around a mouthful of chocolate. A reflective pause passed over them. "Are you doing okay?"

"Me?" the blonde raised her eyebrows and looked surprised. "I'm—"

Valera held up a hand. "And _don't_ say you're fine, Calleigh. Please."

"I am though," she assured her. "I'm sad and I'm lonely again but…" she shrugged. "I think I'm doing what's best for Lucas in the long run. I mean, what if Eric and I went on the way we were for a few years before things went south. Where would that leave me? I have no legal claim over that child—it wouldn't be fair to either of us."

Valera unwrapped another candy bar and mulled over this information. "You know," she began, swallowing thickly. "You keep saying 'when'."

"Huh?"

"With you and Eric," she clarified. "It's never _if _things go south or _if_ you break up. It's always 'when'."

Calleigh shrugged, feeling a tiny flutter of insecurity. "I guess underneath all this blonde hair and big smiles, I'm a closet fatalist."

"I just don't know why you'd assume it was going to end," Valera finished her second Mounds and steered the cart toward the check out. "From the looks of it, I didn't see any end in sight."

Before Calleigh had a chance to respond, they were thrown into the madness of pre-Thanksgiving rush supermarket checkout line traffic and Valera wouldn't have heard her argument. But that was probably for the best, Calleigh reasoned, because she didn't actually have anything to say to that.

0x0x0

Something was not right. Or rather, something was too right, Calleigh couldn't decide which it was as she watched her parents interact that Thursday night.

"Does this seem strange to you?" she asked quietly of Denise, motioning to the pair of them stealing kisses over bites of pumpkin pie.

"Yes," Denise answered immediately, looking mildly ill at the sight of them. "But unfortunately, this is how they are now."

"All the time?"

"All the time."

Calleigh's brow furrowed as she sipped slowly at her cup of coffee. "I don't have any memory of them being like this," she admitted finally.

"No one does," Denise assured her. "I don't think anyone _should _have any memory of their parents being like this."

She was just about to agree when they were interrupted by a _THUMP_ that was followed by the wail of Shepherd, Calleigh's eighteen month-old nephew and Denise and Jackson's youngest son.

Denise sighed, about to stand from her seat in the kitchen when the screaming child—accompanied by a huge red mark on his forehead—was brought to her by Jackson. "I don't know what happened," he admitted. "I think he just crashed into the entertainment center."

The child's mother rolled her eyes and took possession of her son. She smoothed back his blonde hair and kissed the developing bump. "My clumsy little boy," she murmured against his skin. After a few moments, his tears and wails subsided.

"You okay, Shep?" Calleigh asked, leaning forward to examine his eyes for uneven pupils.

The child nodded and sniffled a few times. "Bank," he said suddenly, looking around quickly. "Bank-bank."

"Hang on a second," Denise, said, shifting him to Calleigh's lap. "I'll get your blanket for you."

Calleigh smiled at her nephew as he snuggled into her. The edges of his hair were damp and his face was still dripping with tears, he smelled a bit like a puppy. She brought a hand up to stroke his head, wishing suddenly that she could go see Lucas later on. It wasn't the first time she'd wished it since she'd left Eric's apartment that night, but it was the first time she'd allowed herself to daydream about it specifically. And suddenly, without her permission, she saw herself blowing on the scraped knee of the little boy she knew so well, dabbing on a dollop of ointment and sealing the abrasion with a bandage and a kiss. _"All better?"_ she asked, looking up into his brown eyes with a smile.

He nodded tearfully. _"Thanks, Mommy."_

Calleigh shook the thought from her head as Denise entered the room, carrying with her a tattered baby blanket. "Look what I've got," she smiled, using a frayed edge to dry her son's tears.

Considerably more cheerful, Shepherd slid down off of Calleigh's lap and returned to playing with his brother and sister, dragging the ratty blanket behind him. Calleigh smiled wistfully. "I can't believe how big he is," she commented.

"I know," Denise sighed and looked after him. "He's too big—time to have another one."

They laughed. "You love babies, don't you Denise?"

Unable to disagree, her sister-in-law smiled again. "They're the nicest way to start out people—that's for sure." She laughed. "I was thinking about it the other day—me ten years ago wouldn't recognize me now."

Calleigh cocked her head. "Really? You didn't used to want children?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "I wanted to be a journalist and make big piles of cash and travel all over the world. Who's got time for babies with plans like those?"

She considered this. "Well, I guess if you want to hear God laugh…"

"Exactly."

"So what changed, anyway?"

Denise smiled. "I had one. And the Darnell Gazette needed a Community Features writer…and that was that." She shook her head. "Best way to change your life, though, if you want the truth."

Calleigh offered a distracted smile as she pushed her doubts from her head and reminded herself that she wasn't Denise, she was _Calleigh_, and the way she'd changed everyone's life was what was for the best.

0x0x0

Ryan was watching _A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving_ when Valera stumbled from the bedroom around eight. She smiled lazily in his direction, tugging his t-shirt down further to cover herself. "Come back to bed," she purred, dropping down next to him on the couch.

He mirrored her smile as she crossed her ankles next to his on the coffee table and snuggled against his bare chest. "I got up to get more pie," he admitted, pointing t the half-empty pie tin by his feet.

"Then what happened?"

"Charlie Brown was on," he shrugged. "I got distracted."

Valera laughed and turned her head to kiss his chest. "You're so silly," she commented. The air shifted, suddenly charged with something extra and Valera uncrossed her ankles and swung a leg over Ryan, effectively straddling him and blocking his view of the television.

Not that he exactly minded when he realized that she was still naked under his t-shirt and she was kissing him and doing that _thing _that she did with her tongue…

She stopped suddenly and pulled away, studying his face for a moment. "You know," she ran her fingers through his short hair and clasped her hands behind his head. "You kind of remind of Charlie Brown."

He raised an eyebrow. "I do?"

"Just a little bit," she grinned, pleased with the idea, and her lips resumed their magic, assaulting this time his neck and chest.

"Is that why you picked red this time?" he managed, toying playfully with a lock of her recently colored auburn hair. "You wanted to be the little red haired girl?"

Valera looked up and grinned. "Maybe just a little."

"Hey," Ryan caught her chin with his hand and pulled her back up to eye level. "I want to tell you something."

Her eyebrows huddled closer. "What is it?"

He leaned in and kissed her gently. It wasn't like their usual kisses, frenzied and lustful; it was slower, more tender, and with just a hint of something neither of them were willing to admit yet. He pulled away first and smiled as she leaned her forehead against his. "This is the best Thanksgiving I've ever had."

Valera smiled and kissed him again, hoping it was enough to let him know that it was the best Thanksgiving she'd ever had too.

0x0x0

It was late when Eric and Lucas returned home from his parents' house. There was a FedEx document envelope waiting for him on the doorstep. He picked it up and dropped it on the armchair on his way to the kitchen.

Lucas had fallen asleep in the car on the way home and Eric went to great lengths not to wake him up as he changed him for bed and laid him gently in his crib. Pleased that he was still sleeping after all the commotion, Eric turned on the nightlight and tiptoed from the room. He made a beeline for the refrigerator and cracked open a beer, wishing with the first swallow that it was something stronger.

Thanksgiving with his family was always just like a dry run for Noche Buena anyway, with the only traditional dish being the turkey and the night full of music and dancing in the backyard with the neighbors. Usually, he had a great time.

This year, his mother had noticed his disposition and sat down next to him on the porch steps. "Talk to me, _mijo_."

"It's nothing, _Mama,"_ he dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand.

"It's not good to lie to your mother. What's going on?"

Eric had sighed and run his hands over his face. Against his better judgment, he relayed the story of his and Calleigh's break-up. "I don't know," he finished with a shake of his head. "I know she's just scared but…"

"So let her be scared," Chlorinda said, as if it made the most sense in the world. "She's never been a mother before—it's a very scary idea."

"Yeah, I know," he relented. "But it's more than that. She doesn't want to be with me anymore."

His mother raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think that's true?" Eric didn't respond so she'd continued. "Eric, everyone does things they regret when they're afraid. She'll come around."

"But what if she doesn't?"

"She will," she patted his shoulder. "I know it."

"I just…I don't know what to do either way. If she does come back, do I just take her back and act like nothing happened?"

"_Mijo, _I don't know who gave you the idea that love is easy—especially the good stuff," she shook her head. "It's not. It's something you work at. If she comes back, chances are she's still going to have the feelings she had when she left—that's something you both have to work past. It's hard work, I won't lie to you. But it's worth it, I promise." She'd kissed his cheek and dragged him out to the backyard again.

He knew on some level she was right—because she was his mother and she was usually right; but sitting in the kitchen, drinking alone on a national holiday—he didn't particularly care.

The FedEx envelope caught his eye as he made his way into the living room. Without a second thought, he ripped it open and pulled out the papers inside. He read over the legal documents before him once…twice…three times before it sank it. Eric gave a mirthless laugh and shook his head. "I don't believe this."

Rosha had willingly, officially, and legally terminated her parental rights. She had enclosed another note, this time on a sheet of pink stationary.

_Eric,_

_Sorry to do this like this, but I couldn't risk seeing him. I know it's selfish, but I knew that if I actually saw him, I wouldn't be able to go through with it. I know I'm making the right choice, you'll do what's best for him and give him the best life you can. _

_I have faith in you._

_Rosha_

Eric flipped through the packet of legal documents and drained the rest of his beer. "Happy fucking Thanksgiving," he muttered bitterly to himself. As soon as the words had left his lips, the sounds of Lucas' cries filled the apartment. He got to his feet and went to his son's room, not surprised to find him wailing and thrashing his arms wildly. A habit, he'd learned, usually meant he was just generally agitated and not in any intense pain.

He picked him up and held him close to his chest. "Shh," he whispered against the baby's hair. "You're okay…" he dropped down into the rocking chair and pushed off the ground. "You're okay." Lucas took no notice of his father's attempt to calm him down. "Come on, buddy," Eric begged, his patience running thin. The continued bawling until Eric began humming under his breath. The humming seemed to quiet him, but not enough to make him stop all together. Eric sighed, not in the mood to serenade tonight.

"All right, Lucas," he said, getting up from the rocking chair. "This is all I've got left," he warned. "_Stars shining bright above you…warm breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'. Birds singing in the sycamore trees…dream a little dream of me." _Lucas was asleep by the end of the second verse, much to Eric's relief.

He set him back in the crib and left the room again, collapsing this time on his own bed, where the events of the past month began rolling through his mind, accompanied by the song that had just put his son to sleep. The memory of Calleigh singing to Lucas in the kitchen crashed against him with such force that had he not already been laying down, he was sure it would have leveled him.

For the first time in a long time, Eric felt a tear roll down his cheek. He made no move to wipe neither it away, nor the others that followed in its stead.

How had his life turned out this way?

* * *

AN: Boy, I'm depressed. I don't know about you guys. So, Charlie Brown and FedEx each belong to their respective owners. And yes, I know that FedEx doesn't deliver on Thanksgiving…it's called poetic license. Go with it. Tell me your thoughts if you ever expect to be pulled out of this worthless pit of despair! Much love!


	15. Chapter Fourteen

AN: Before we begin, allow me to apologize for a.) any calories consumed in depression over the last two chapters. And b.) for the shortness of this chapter. There was nothing else I could pair it with and it really deserves it's own little slice of the pie. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

_December_

They were already playing Christmas music by the time everyone returned from Thanksgiving. Employees had come to work one day a week later to find the halls of CSI decked with twinkle lights, baubles and gaudy tinsel that was wrapped around every railing and banister in sight. All of this holiday cheer had put Ryan back into business-mode.

"Okay, new plan," he said, rubbing his hands together excitedly as he rounded the corner into DNA.

At the sound of these words, Valera straightened from being bent over her reports and shot Ryan a glare. "No, no new plans!"

"This is fool-proof!" he promised. "It's my best one yet!"

"Ryan!"

"Just hear me out," he begged. When she didn't immediately shut him down, he continued. "I'm going to shoot myself in the foot—"

"Are you crazy? What—are you trying to avoid the draft?"

"No—listen. I'm going to 'accidentally' shoot myself in the foot while Calleigh and I are on a callout. She's tiny and I'll obviously be dead weight, so she's going to have to call someone for help. Who better to call than her jaded ex-lover with the big, huge guns?" Ryan's fool-proof plan was met with a deeply unimpressed stare. "No good?"

"Possibly the worst idea you've ever had."

His shoulders sank. "I kind of thought getting myself shot in the eye was the worst idea I've ever had."

Valera felt bad. She rubbed his shoulder supportively. "That was pretty bad too."

"It's just…" he sighed dramatically. "Eric is my best friend and I basically owe everything I am as a CSI to Calleigh…they're two of the most important people in my life. But this isn't even about me wanting them back together anymore."

She raised an eyebrow. "It's not?"

"No! I'm Lucas' godfather, for God's sake. I _lied_ to the Catholic Church so I could promise to always look out for him." Ryan's face folded into a frown again. "How do you think he's going to feel when he figures out that he's been abandoned not only twice by his biological mother, but also by his stand-in mother?"

"What?"

At the sound of a familiar Southern accent, the duo turned to the door. Ryan blanched. "Uh…Calleigh…we were just…uh—"

"What did you say about Rosha?" she asked, ignoring his attempt at innocence.

"Just ignore us, Calleigh," Valera interrupted. "It's really none of our business."

"No," she shook her head and fastened her stare on Ryan. "What did you say?"

He gave a defeated sigh. "She signed away her parental rights," he said finally, crossing his arms over his chest. "She just gave up any legal claim she had over Lucas."

"Oh," Calleigh said softly, her eyes falling to the ground.

"Calleigh?" Valera asked gently after a few moments of silence. "It's really none of our business—Ryan's just meddling."

She nodded distractedly and began backing out of the lab. "I…I have to get back to firearms."

Valera watched her friend leave and shot another glare in Ryan's direction. "Remember that sex we were planning on having ever again?"

"Oh, c'mon…" he motioned after her. "Whatever just happened there wasn't my fault."

"Well something's wrong—_stop meddling_."

0x0x0

Valera was right, something _was_ wrong. Only Calleigh wasn't entirely sure what it was. She'd made her way slowly back to firearms and had sat down with a stack of case files but found herself deeply distracted.

No, she wasn't distracted. She was _sad. _As soon as Ryan had blurted out the news about Rosha's official departure from her son's life, Calleigh felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. It was as if a blanket of sorrow had been tossed over her shoulders and tucked around under her chin.

She sat back in her chair and pondered this. Why was she so sad? It wasn't as if her mother had suddenly abandoned _her _after all. Still, this was a different kind of gloom—not the kind she would have associated with personal misery. Calleigh glanced down at her watch—six-thirty. Night shift would be here already. She looked down at her case files and decided to take them home and leave a little earlier than she normally did.

Her bag was packed and her jacket flung over her arm as she got into the elevator. Mindlessly, she reached out and pushed a button, surprised when she found herself being taken up instead of down and ending up on the fourth floor.

Calleigh sighed. "Okay, Timmy," she muttered under her breath. "Stop pushing."

The older lady at the reception desk smiled as she saw Calleigh approaching. "Miss Duquesne!" she exclaimed. "It's been awhile, how've you been?"

"I'm fine, Joy, how are you?"

"Just fine," she smiled. "I'll go get Lucas for you," she said and bustled away before Calleigh had a chance to protest.

"I'll just sit with him," she told herself. "I'll just sit with him for a minute and then give him back so that when Eric comes to get him I'll be—"

"Here we are," Joy bubbled, handing Lucas, already strapped in his car seat, over to Calleigh.

"Thanks," she smiled weakly, feeling any resolve she'd built up begin to melt away. She took him to a quiet corner of the lounge and turned the car seat to face her on the bench. Calleigh watched as Lucas mashed his gums against a bright purple teething ring. "Hey buddy," she said softly, not trusting herself to touch him. "You're getting really big." Her breath gave an unexpected shudder and she felt a pin-prick of tears behind her eyes. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Rosha. I know you didn't really know her but…still, I'm sorry." Calleigh took another shaky breath and pushed her hair behind her ears. "You don't know this, but I don't have a good relationship with my mom, either." She shook her head. "My whole life, we've butted heads. But I think even I'd be hurt if she decided she didn't want to be my mama anymore." Reaching out slowly, Calleigh ran her fingers along the impossibly soft skin of his chubby arm. He instinctively reached for her fingers and clamped his hand around them. "Because everybody deserves someone to love them and want what's best for them," she said softly. "Someone to rock them to sleep at night and miss them when they're not around." She shook her head again. "I mean, that's all a mama really is, anyway, isn't it?" The lump that had been forming in her throat was growing larger. "Things are probably really confusing for you right now. You're probably trying to figure out what you did wrong…but you didn't do anything wrong, baby. I'm the one who made the mistake." Calleigh allowed a tiny tear to slip from her eye before she wiped it away in fear that more would follow.

"I really do love you, you know, and your dad. I hope you know that—I've never loved anyone the way I love the two of you. And I thought that if I let you go, it would be better than living with the fear that I'm going to mess everything up." Calleigh leaned closer and squeezed her eyes tightly as Lucas pawed at her face. "But I guess I'm more selfish than I thought," she gave a little laugh. "I _want_ to be there for you, sweetheart. I want to kiss your bumps and bruises and go to your baseball games and let you borrow my car and order your date flowers for the prom…" she wiped quickly at her face. "I know, it sounds like I'm getting ahead of myself, doesn't it? But lately it's all I can think about." She felt the tears rising again. "I'm so sorry if you thought I didn't want you. I wish I could take it back—I just…I just don't know how to undo what I did…"

From behind her, there was a noise. A very familiar throat being cleared. Calleigh rose to her feet, wiping furiously at her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I know I shouldn't be here. I was just—"

"Did you mean that?" Eric asked softly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Calleigh felt herself sigh, suddenly drained from her own emotions. "Every word."

Eric digested this slowly. "Well you can't undo it," he said after a few moments.

"I know," she shrugged with an uncharacteristic resignation. "I just thought he deserved an explanation."

They looked at one another for another painful, eternal minute. She made a move to return to the elevator. "But if there was a way to get past it," Eric's words stopped her. "Would you be willing to try?"

She felt her chin dip in the slightest of nods. "Would you?"

"I would," he said softly, reaching out to push her tears away with his thumb. Calleigh covered his hand with hers and held it to her face; her heart ached with the memory of his touch. Eric closed the distance between them and gently brought his lips to hers. She leaned into him as a tear escaped his eye and mixed with hers on her cheek

A sudden laugh from Lucas interrupted them. Calleigh broke away with a grin. "I think we just made his day," she murmured as Eric pulled her close and rested his chin atop her head.

He kissed her hair and took a deep, contented breath. "C'mon," he said. "Let's go home."

And Eric went home with his family which, he realized now, was anything but instant.

* * *

AN: Reunited and it feel so good! Okay guys, we've only got 2 more updates to go. Make it count—show me your love!!


	16. Epilogue

AN: I lied. Unintentionally, of course, but it was still a lie. I thought I had another chapter before this epilogue, but alas, I do not. So I give a pre-emptive thank you to all of my readers and I hope that you enjoy this ending as much as I enjoyed writing the whole thing.

* * *

**Epilogue**

_Christmas Eve  
(one year later)_

When Eric pushed open the door to the apartment, he was greeted with the sight of a cloud of smoke billowing from the kitchen and the smoke alarm going off at an ear-splitting decibel. "Calleigh?" he called, covering his face and coughing into the sleeve of his sweater.

"In here!" she yelled through the smoke. He followed her voice into the kitchen and found the window open and Calleigh up on a chair, fiddling with the screaming alarm. After a few moments' struggle, she managed to unhinge the battery and stop the siren. She smiled down at him through the haze and allowed him to help her down from the chair. "That's better."

Eric shook his head and looked around the kitchen. "What have you been doing? Besides lighting things on fire, obviously."

She gave him an unimpressed look. "I was making Christmas cookies," she explained, motioning to the trays of charcoal behind her on the stove.

He raised an eyebrow. "They look…good."

Calleigh rolled her eyes. "Yeah, if your family likes them Cajun style," she shook her head and accepted a belated greeting in a kiss.

He made his way over to the stove and examined the small piles of charred dough. "What were these supposed to be, anyway?"

"Orange drops," she sighed hopelessly. "You have to watch them really closely and things were going fine until—" her eyes fell to the doorway where, as if on cue, an almost two year old Lucas had wandered in and stood rubbing his eyes fitfully. "Until _someone _woke up early from his nap."

Lucas ignored her scolding and took a few more steps toward her, raising his arms. "Uppie."

She smiled down at him, her irritation melting away, and swung him up onto her hip. Eric kissed his son's head and rubbed his back. "You need your sleep, buddy. Santa doesn't come to little boys who make Mommy burn the cookies." He offered a grin at the look Calleigh shot him.

The child's attention was already on the mess Calleigh had made before him. "Cookie, Mama?" he asked, with a deliberate point.

"I don't think you want to eat those ones, champ," Eric said, taking his son from her as she made her way over to the table and the plastic bag he'd brought from the grocery store. "Is that why you asked me to pick up those?" he asked, pointing to the break-and-bake holiday sugar cookies she'd called him to pick up on his way home.

Calleigh studied the package for a moment. "Do you think your mother will believe I made these from scratch?"

Eric considered this. "Well, I think the cartoon Santa Claus' baked into them might throw up a red flag, but," he shrugged. "I say go for it."

She bit her lip. "I just…" her blonde hair fell across her face as she turned back to her ruined creations. "I told her I'd bake and…"

Eric closed the distance between them and brushed his lips with hers. "Cal," he smiled. "It's fine, everyone loves you—no one is going to care about the cookies."

She rested her head against his chest, her eyes falling on Lucas as she did so. "I just want it to be a nice Christmas," she said finally. "It's the first one Lucas is going to remember."

At the sound of his name, Lucas looked up from playing with the collar of his father's shirt. "Cookie, Daddy?" he asked, pointing once again to the tray of burnt dessert.

Eric laughed. "He's got a one-track mind, I don't think you have to worry about him not enjoying Christmas."

She sighed and ran her fingers through the child's soft, tight curls. "I think he needs a haircut."

"I kind of like it," Eric said, tilting his head from one angle to the other. "Gives him an Art Garfunkel kind of look."  
Calleigh laughed and shook her head. Her eyes fell to the clock on the microwave. "Oh, Jesus. I have to get moving," Eric watched as she switched into business mode. "Okay, these will be done in fifteen minutes, I still have to get ready and get—" she looked frantic again.

"What is it?"

"He needs a bath—I was going to do it earlier and then the cookies and the fire extinguisher and—"

"I know he needs a bath, babe," Eric kissed her forehead. "I was just about to go do that. Bake, get ready, and calm down. Christmas is supposed to be fun, remember?" With that, he hoisted Lucas up into the air and zoomed him, airplane style, into the bathroom.

Lucas was splashing happily with his bath toys while Eric rubbed shampoo into his curls. Calleigh might be right, he considered; with his hair wet, he looked less like a tiny Art Garfunkel and more like a clean shaven Jerry Garcia. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Calleigh smiling down at him. "What's up?"

"Cookies are baking, I'm going to go get ready," she leaned down and kissed him. "Sorry I'm crazy."

"You know me," he reassured her. "I love crazy."

Calleigh laughed and backed out of the bathroom, leaving Eric to fill the pitched to rinse out Lucas's hair. "Head back, buddy," he gently tipped the boy's head back and pour the water over him.

Lucas laughed. "Again!"

Like father, like son, there was never any getting this kid out of the water. Eric echoed his laugh and happily obliged. From across the hall, he could hear Calleigh humming Christmas carols—flat, and off key as she always was—and he smiled, remembering fondly the first time he'd heard her sing.

There were days when that night felt like it had happened a million years ago—when Eric remembered every detail that had occurred between then and now. And then there were those days—like this one—where it felt like he'd just blinked and a whole year had flown by in an instant. When he looked at his son and felt his breath fall short as he realized that he was growing up quickly—much too quickly—and that eventually, all of these moments would just be memories.

Memories he had made with Calleigh.

Calleigh, who had almost been lost to both of them for good. Who had come back and spent the last year battling her own issues with motherhood and turning them into the family they hadn't been before. Because she loved them. Both of them.

He pulled the plug from the drain, much to Lucas' dismay. "No more baf?" he asked, his lower lip pouting.

"No more bath," Eric shook his head. "We've gotta get you ready for Noche Buena."

"Bayna?" he repeated, a tiny crease forming between his eyebrows.

"That's right, we're going to go see _Abuelo_ and _Abuela_."

This seemed to satisfy him, as any visit with_ Abuela_ usually meant gifts, hugs, kisses, and cookies.

Calleigh was back in the kitchen by the time they were both ready. Eric dropped Lucas in front of the television and reached into his pocket, feeling his heart quicken its beats. She was sliding the cookies—completely _un_burned—from the pan with a spatula and depositing them into a plastic container. "Better the second time around?" he asked with a smirk from the doorway.

"Much better," she smiled over her shoulder and pressed firmly on the plastic lid to seal them in. "Is Lucas ready?"

"Yep," he took a few steps closer to her.

"And you're all good to go?"

"I am."

He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "What are you doing," she asked as an amused smile played on her lips.

"I love you, Cal," he said softly, holding her close.

She turned in his embrace and dropped her arms atop his shoulders. Her brow furrowed. "I love you too. Is everything okay?"

Eric smiled. "Everything's perfect," he kissed the tip of her nose. "You make it perfect." After a moment, his smile turned mischievous. "Well…except for the orange drops."

Calleigh laughed. "Shut up."

"But," he turned serious again. "I was thinking that maybe it's time to make this official."

She cocked her head to the side. "Make what official?"

"You and me," he reached into his pocket again and produced a small, velvet box. He popped open the top and watched as her eyes fell on the sparkling diamond ring he'd bought that afternoon. "Calleigh, you've made my life complete in more ways than I could have imagined. Will you marry me?"

Her green eyes doubled in size as her hand found her fluttering heart. "Yes," she breathed after a few long moments. "Yes, I will."

0x0x0

Tessa has been the first to notice the ring on Calleigh's left hand. There was a loud squeal of excitement and Calleigh had been swept away almost immediately by a band of his sisters, aunts, and cousins. His mother had kissed him on the cheek and offered congratulations before joining the women in the living room. Lucas had instantly run off to play with his cousins, leaving Eric standing in the foyer with his father.

"Come on," Pavel clapped a hand to his back. "Let's have a drink."

Eric had a clear view of Calleigh from the kitchen; he watched with interest as she fielded questions and suggestions and offers to plan the whole wedding while his father took down a bottle of tequila. "The good stuff," he assured his son, pouring a shot over a few ice cubes and handing it to him.

He took a sip, wincing as it hit his throat. He remembered clearly then, the last time he'd had tequila. It was the day he'd met Rosha—the day he'd first found out about Lucas. Eric watched as his son wandered into the living room, in search of his mother. Calleigh scooped him up and deposited a kiss onto his forehead; she turned her head and caught his eye, sending a wink and smile his way.

Eric felt his heart swell. He still remembered how he'd felt that night, downing shot after shot—like his life was over. But he realized now that it was only then that his life had truly begun.

_-Finito-_

* * *

AN: And that's all she wrote, folks. Thank you so much for your unwavering love and support. Stay tuned for more Miami fics from me—I'm totally addicted to this fandom. Also, I offer Lucas in the Miami-verse for anyone who ever wants to use him, please just give me credit. I love you all!


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